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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23931016">Bite the Hand That Feeds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books'>hit_the_books</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Castiel Loves Sam Winchester, Castiel loves honey, Castiel's True Form (Supernatural), Eldritch Creature Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Hand Jobs, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Sam Winchester, Kissing, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Monsters, Psychic Abilities, SPNDystopiaBang2020, Sam Winchester Has Powers, Sam Winchester Loves Castiel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:01:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23931016</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two centuries ago, a great cataclysm hit the Earth. Monsters poured forth from a tear in reality, and the insidious energy from this rift turned much of the Earth into wasteland. Humans now survive in a handful of guarded megacities, like New Lawrence, while some live out in the wastes.</p><p>But what if there was a way to finally close the rift for good and save the Earth?</p><p>That’s what Castiel hopes when he happens upon Sam Winchester, a powerful psy—a human mutated by the energies of the rift.</p><p>Yet other psys have different plans. The cult of Azazel sees a newer, deadly future for the tear in the world and the rest of humanity.</p><p>Banding together with Sam’s brother Dean, Castiel and Sam set forth to heal the world once and for all, along with some help from old friends.</p><p>The Plan? Survive. Save the world. Fall in love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>SPN Dystopia Bang 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Oh man! This is my second time writing for the <a href="https://spndystopiabang.tumblr.com/">SPN Dystopia Bang</a> and my third year modding it (we've been going for 4 years). I wanna say thank you to my co-mod <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermit9/pseuds/Hermit9">Enoliel</a> for joining me in this madness. Thank you to the talented fic writers and artists who have joined us in all of this (some returning from previous rounds), <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonwithatale">Trisscar368</a> for being my beta. Thanks to the <a href="https://allspnships.tumblr.com/">All SPN Ships crowd</a> and....</p><p>Thank you to my amazing artist, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anyrei">Anyrei</a> (whose <a href="https://anyreiart.tumblr.com/post/616893546405953536/art-masterpost-spn-dystopia-2020-my-art-for">art post you can find here</a>). Anyrei's art beautifully captures many moments of the story and helped to spur me on to completing it as I was looking to finish writing after claims. The art is gorgeous and you really should go give it some love.</p><p>Okay, so this story has a couple of influences...</p><p>First up, the title itself is borrowed from the Nine Inch Nail's song "Bite The Hand That Feeds", which comes from their album With Teeth. Much of the story was written while listening to this album and if you haven't listened through to it before, I highly recommend giving it a listen.</p><p>Second, this story was originally going to be more of a direct riff on the classic horror film "Scanners" (and there's an early draft that more directly reflects this). You should go watch it. While the fear of people with psychic powers is still kind of here in this story, I decided to mix things more with canon elements (Azazel leading a group trying to feck things up), the rifts in reality that happen in later seasons of Supernatural, the idea of Cas's true form, and so on. And mixing in a bit of fannishness with having an Eldritch Bunker--because why the hell not. Oh, and there is definitely some original Final Fantasy VII in here a bit too.</p><p>The story's rating is due to later violence and a brief, though fluid detailed descriptive, sex scene.</p><p>Now, it's important to note that the round of this bang, which always focuses on Dystopias, was organised before the current global crisis was a global crisis, way back in December 2019. Much of the stories were written before things are as I post this story May 1st 2020. If anywhere you feel my story or that of my fellow authors reflects it? Pure coincidence at this point.</p><p>Alright, I'm gonna shut up now. I hope you enjoy reading my fic. See you in the comments.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>Eyes narrowing, Castiel glances around him before hurrying over to a human shaped bundle of rags that’s curled up to the side of what was once a highway. Dust streams past him and Castiel tries to keep his breathing under control, sucking in air through his filter mask as he approaches. His right hand hovers near the gun at his hip, while his left tenses its grip on the wooden staff he was leaning on.</p>
<p>Slowly Castiel kneels down beside the bundle, eyes darting around him as he turns his head side-to-side to compensate for the brass and glass goggles over his eyes, his senses straining for any other signs of life or robot. He eases the figure onto their back. A black filter mask covers their mouth and nose, titanium framed goggles cover their eyes. Castiel can see strands of brown hair creeping out from under a deep green hood.</p>
<p>Castiel stays silent as he reaches a hand out and gets his fingers between the figure’s layers, feeling for a pulse. He finds one.</p>
<p>Another glance around and Castiel settles his staff and backpack on the floor. The storm is picking up and there’s nothing he can do for the figure out in the open. They’re tall, whoever they are, but Castiel decides he can carry them. Castiel straps his staff to his backpack and hoists it back onto his shoulders again. Then he gets his arms under the figure and lifts, pulling them into a hold over his shoulder.</p>
<p>Once he’s standing again, Castiel looks around, straining a little under the extra weight. Still no sign of anything. He starts walking again in the direction of the bunker he lives in, all alone. The gray-teal of Castiel’s rain poncho whips around him, the storm winds picking up, sending sand and grit streaming past him.</p>
<p>Step after step, Castiel avoids letting his thoughts gather on the physical effort his rescue is costing him. Instead he keeps his attention on his surroundings. It’s unusual for anyone to wander this close to the bunker, but Castiel has encountered the odd stray over the years. But it’s been more than five since he last had anyone in his home—if you can call a bunker built to survive the end of the world, a home—and Castiel is curious.</p>
<p>He reflects on the goggles the figure is wearing. Titanium is hard to get a hold of in the wastes, but would be easy enough for someone living in New Lawrence to get hold of. Though Castiel had thought that the idea of excursions out into the wastes was something the authorities of New Lawrence discourage. Usually with guns (and incarceration if you were lucky).</p>
<p>Huffing out a breath, Castiel enters the deserted town below the bunker. Old records Castiel had found in his home said the town had been called Lebanon a long time ago, but Castiel just knew it as a town of ghosts. He’d picked it over many times, each time finding something that told him a little of the lives of the people who’d once lived there.</p>
<p>Lebanon is slowly giving way to the dust; many of the buildings on the outskirts are half consumed. The walls on one side buried, their roofs caving in from the weight of debris and dirt that’s gathered over two centuries. Castiel knows which ones are safe and which he dare not go inside. He also knows where the traps are and where they’re not. In a way, he’s glad he found the stranger before they reached Lebanon, because he can’t do anything about decapitation.</p>
<p>Visibility is dropping with every single step, but Castiel knows his way through the town like the lines and scars on the back of his hands. He trudges on, ignoring the ache growing in his back and arms—<em>There will be time to breathe and to stretch, and to find coffee soon</em>, Castiel tells himself.</p>
<p>The path starts to slope upwards and the skeleton houses begin to give way to empty land dotted with the odd skeleton tree. Castiel can’t remember easily what living trees look like, he’d never seen many as a child (prior to the current state of things), but as an adult he’s seen plenty of dead ones.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>By the time he reaches the top of the hill where the bunker’s entrance sits, Castiel’s finding it hard to breathe. With the stranger’s extra weight and the intensifying dust storm, getting enough air is tough.</p>
<p>Eyeing the doorway, Castiel shifts his extra load around carefully so he can pull out a key hung from a chain around his neck. Key ready, Castiel ducks under the metal sheeting he put around the door to keep the dust out. He puts the key in the lock and opens the large heavy iron door and pushes it open. Closing the door quickly behind him and locking it, Castiel hurries through the top level to the stairs that lead down into the main body of the bunker. The lights are on and the air is already coming through his mask cleaner.</p>
<p>He carefully walks down the metal stairs leading into the bunker’s main room and hurries past it in the direction of what was once meant to be an infirmary. Castiel tries to keep the infirmary stocked, but he’s never had much call to use it—doing his best not to get hurt or ill. He tries to avoid the space, too reminiscent of what the world has lost. But the examination table in the center of the infirmary is just right for offloading the stranger onto.</p>
<p>Castiel carefully sets the stranger down and then takes off the backpack he’d been carrying along with the stranger. For a moment, Castiel’s back protests at the sudden loss of weight, muscles twinging and spasming, but they start to settle down as Castiel removes his mask and goggles and then his poncho. Taking the poncho over to a table to set it aside, Castiel notices a dark red-brown stain over part of it. <em>Blood</em>, Castiel thinks, concern for the stranger growing.</p>
<p>Despite the noise, the stranger hasn’t moved. Castiel steps over to the table and looks them over. There’s a bloody stain on the stranger’s torso, towards their stomach. The likely source of blood.</p>
<p>Castiel gently reaches out, pushes their deep green hood back and pulls the stranger’s goggles up and over the top of their head. He sets them down on a tray beside the table and then unclips the stranger’s mask, revealing they are male. The stranger’s cheekbones and chin are thin and stark against his long bangs. Whoever he is, he hasn’t eaten properly for some time.</p>
<p>Pulling the mask away, Castiel cringes back as the stranger takes a sudden huge gasp of air and then coughs.</p>
<p>He weakly opens his hazel eyes, gaze landing on Castiel. “W-where am… I?” he asks.</p>
<p>“A safe place. May I check you over? I think you might be hurt. But I’ll have to remove some of your clothes… I’ll have to cut,” Castiel says gently.</p>
<p>“S-sure,” the stranger croaks back.</p>
<p>“I’m Castiel, by the way.”</p>
<p>“Sam.” Sam winces. “It hurts.”</p>
<p>Castiel doesn’t waste any more time talking. Reaching for a pair of medical scissors, Castiel cuts open Sam’s clothes. The scissors make easy work of the dark green material of his outer top and the layers of hemp shirts underneath. He pushes the cut fabric aside, ignores a necklace hanging from Sam’s neck, and sees some old bandages saturated with blood. A past injury likely reopened by Castiel carrying Sam.</p>
<p>“Just a second,” Castiel says. He starts moving around the infirmary, grabbing gauze, iodine, a needle and thread, fresh bandages and more. Placing it all on a tray, Castiel even finds a box of medical gloves he can use.</p>
<p>“Sam,” Castiel says as he approaches the table again, “try to stay still for me, okay?”</p>
<p>“I’ll try.”</p>
<p>Setting up beside Sam, Castiel snaps a pair of gloves on and then picks up his medical scissors again. He snips away the dressings and clears them off. There’s a cut running horizontally along half of Sam’s stomach, like a long blade had cut him. Stitches are in place, but they’ve been disturbed and a few are torn. The good news is it doesn’t look or smell like infection has gotten in, Castiel doesn’t see a sign of it.</p>
<p>Castiel sets about cleaning Sam up and giving him fresh stitches. He works quickly and Sam hardly makes a sound as Castiel works. As soon as he’s done, he grabs his water canteen from his backpack and hands it to Sam.</p>
<p>“It’s just water,” Castiel reassures him.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Sam manages before taking a small sip.</p>
<p>From his backpack, Castiel grabs some clean clothes he’d taken with him in case he couldn’t have gotten back to the bunker within a day. The shirt looks like it might fit Sam, the sweats might be a little short.</p>
<p>“Put these on,” Castiel insists.</p>
<p>Sam fumbles the shirt and the tatters of his clothes. “Can’t seem to… yeah,” Sam grimaces.</p>
<p>“I can help, if you’re cool with that?” Castiel asks.</p>
<p>Sam nods and Castiel steps forward, helping him to get out of his dirty ruined clothes and his shoes. Sam’s underwear falls away as Castiel helps him step out of his everything, but Sam is shaky on his feet and Castiel nearly faceplants into Sam’s junk. Heart speeding up, mouth going dry, Castiel tries to pull away a bit, but remains close enough to help Sam. He distracts himself by studying the golden horned head hanging across Sam’s chest from a black cord.</p>
<p>Once Sam’s in some fresh clothes, Castiel steps back a little, face still warm. Sam doesn’t seem to notice anything’s wrong.</p>
<p>“You’re dehydrated, I suspect,” Castiel says and then scurries off. He starts digging through the rest of his medical supplies and finds a saline bag and everything he needs to set up an IV drip and stand. He begins prepping Sam’s left hand.</p>
<p>“How do you know how to do all this?” Sam asks, his voice clearer than before. Castiel thinks he may be somewhere in his twenties, but he can’t say how old exactly.</p>
<p>“I used to be... a doctor,” Castiel explains. It is easier saying that than giving any truth, at least until he has determined if Sam is a friendly.</p>
<p>“Then how come you’re living out here?”</p>
<p>“That’s hard to explain. Okay, you’re going to feel a little pinch.” Without further warning, Castiel puts in the IV and then tapes it in place. He flushes it before setting up the line and bag. “There you go.”</p>
<p>Sam looks down at the IV as Castiel tidies away the used medical supplies. He digs some clean socks from his backpack and helps Sam put them on.</p>
<p>“There’s a room you can-”</p>
<p>“What about the grand tour?” Sam pouts.</p>
<p>Castiel rolls his eyes, taking in the younger man’s bright eyes and broad chest. It would be easy to give in, but Castiel doesn’t want to be picking Sam off of the floor.</p>
<p>“Rest first and then you can have the tour.”</p>
<p>“Fine.”</p>
<p>Walking the short distance from the infirmary to the bedrooms, Castiel can sense Sam looking around and drinking everything in. The bunker’s design is over two centuries old, but Castiel thinks it looks far smarter than the slick modern architecture he remembers in New Lawrence.</p>
<p>They reach Castiel’s room, the only one with clean sheets. He could make up a bed in one of the many spare rooms. But that would mean Castiel couldn’t keep watch over Sam—Castiel is nearly 100 per cent convinced that Sam means him no harm. But Castiel wasn’t born stupid and with a death wish to boot.</p>
<p>Though Castiel is a little surprised by how trusting Sam is being, but Castiel just puts it down to inexperience. He helps Sam into bed and then settles down in the reading chair he keeps there.</p>
<p>“Hope you don’t mind, I’m just gonna stay put, keep an eye on you.” Castiel picks up the paperback he’d been reading the night before. It was some novel by an author called Stephen King, titled <em>The Dead Zone</em>. There are many old books in the recesses of the bunker.</p>
<p>Sam smiles up from the bed. “I get it… Complete stranger and all that, right?”</p>
<p>Castiel nods.</p>
<p>“It’s,” Sam yawns, “all good.” Sam closes his eyes and Castiel sets about reading.</p>
<p>Ten minutes pass. Castiel’s reading a scene where the protagonist is visiting a former love, when he feels a presence brush against the walls of his mind.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam dreams.</p>
<p>New Lawrence sprawls around him. Gleaming windows hide that the city is not what it seems. Everything is so closely watched and monitored. Any hint of dissidence can see you taken away from your family and your life. Sam and Dean stand facing each other in the main quad of Sam’s college, both dressed plainly in white dress shirts and teal-gray slacks.</p>
<p>Dean, Sam’s older brother, turns to him and says, “You don’t have to do anything.”</p>
<p>“They’re going to find out.” Sam clenches and unclenches his fists, trying hard to keep his emotions in check.</p>
<p>“Not if you keep your head down. Don’t do anything and you’ll be fine.” Dean slaps Sam’s back.</p>
<p>Sam’s lips thin and he says in a low voice, “I can’t fully control it, Dean. I’m gonna mess up and then what?”</p>
<p>“Then nothing. You’re not going to mess up.”</p>
<p>Sam looks at Dean in disbelief.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>The scene changes and Sam’s running for his life. He’s dressed in the gear he’d managed to scrounge together—cargo pants, Henley and a hoody, boots. There’s a mask and goggles in his pockets. Dean’s necklace, which Dean had already given him for safe keeping, hangs from his neck under his tops.</p>
<p>Ducking in behind a fence, Sam listens. The sound of his pursuers fades away from him and he allows himself to catch his breath. As he stays hidden, Sam tries to puzzle out what happened to Dean. They were meant to meet at Sam’s dorms on campus after 1 a.m., but Dean had never come, instead Sam had been greeted by the security officials who are hunting for him.</p>
<p>Sam sucks in a deep breath and stands. Dean told him not to wait.</p>
<p>He runs.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Dry eyes cracking open, Sam stares up at Castiel as he fixes a fresh bag to his IV. This one’s yellow, unlike the previous one.</p>
<p>Castiel notices him staring and Sam blushes as he looks away.</p>
<p>Castiel steps back. “Good to see you awake.”</p>
<p>“I’m feeling better,” Sam notes. “Could do with using the restroom though.”</p>
<p>“Think you can walk?”</p>
<p>Sam gives a hesitant nod and slowly gets out of bed under Castiel’s supervision.</p>
<p>Sam suffers through letting Castiel support him and take him to the restrooms in the bunker. Once Sam’s in a stall, he’s able to take things from there, while being careful of his IV. He finishes up and starts to take in their surroundings as Castiel steers him back towards the bedroom.</p>
<p>The whole place looks like it’s over a century removed from what Sam’s used to. It all looks like it wouldn’t have been out of place in a 1950s movie—not that Sam’s managed to watch many movies over the years. He finds the lack of windows weird, but as Castiel—<em>what kind of name is that?</em>—called this place a bunker, it makes sense that they’re underground.</p>
<p>Sam wonders how many days it’s been since he left New Lawrence. He tries to get a read off of Castiel as he settles back into bed, but the guy’s like a fortress.</p>
<p>Castiel quirks an eyebrow at him and crosses his arms over his chest. “You know, it’s rude to pry uninvited?”</p>
<p>Eyes widening, Sam looks up at Castiel in surprise. “I didn’t—I, uh, that is-”</p>
<p>Castiel shakes his head and frowns. “You’re a psy.”</p>
<p>Sam tries to think fast, panic rising and then he realizes the obvious. “If you can sense me… you’re one too.”</p>
<p>“I may just be.” Castiel’s frown turns into a small smile. “Hungry?”</p>
<p>The idea of food makes Sam’s stomach growl.</p>
<p>“I’ll fix up some oatmeal. If you do wander off I can find you,” Castiel says as he heads to the bedroom door. “But I would advise against it. This bunker is sometimes only safe to those who know it.”</p>
<p>Castiel leaves and Sam just sits in the bed trying to figure out what the man means. <em>Booby traps? Defense systems? There’s cave-ins?</em> Sam isn’t sure, but he’s pretty clear on the fact that he probably can’t walk more than ten steps unaided.</p>
<p>He tries to think of when he last ate. It might have been a rat that he roasted, perhaps four days ago. He’d found streams and rivers while walking and had been able to make fires often enough to boil drinking water. It wasn’t perfect, but it had been enough. The homes he found outside of New Lawrence had little to nothing left in them. They’d been picked clean over the past two centuries.</p>
<p>Sam still can’t quite get used to the fact that the world beyond New Lawrence is so empty and barren. He lays his hand on his cut and thinks back to the night he got it.</p>
<p>There had been a man, with yellow eyes. He’d kept talking over and over about how Sam was his ticket out of the wastes. Sam hadn’t understood what the yellow eyed man had been talking about and then other people had surrounded Sam’s campfire, closing in on him. He’d bolted, managing to fight his way through somehow, but then he’d been hurt. A crudely made sword had cut him across his torso, blood spilling easily.</p>
<p>Sam isn’t sure how, but he’d gotten away. He’d run and run. Then fallen in on the camp of two other people in the wastes. They’d been scared at first, hesitant, but saw he was hurt and helped.</p>
<p>“Then they were gone. The twins left,” Sam mumbles.</p>
<p>“Twins?” Castiel asks, bringing in a tray with two bowls of steaming oatmeal on top and two matching cups of black tea. There’s a bottle of some golden substance beside it. Castiel sets the tray on Sam’s lap and picks up the bottle of golden stuff, squeezing it into one bowl. He sets the golden stuff down and takes hold of the bowl with golden covered oatmeal, and grabs a spoon.</p>
<p>“Two people, twins, a man and woman, saved me,” Sam explains.</p>
<p>“Interesting…” Castiel settles back in his seat with his oatmeal. “Try the honey,” he says, pointing to the bottle of golden stuff.</p>
<p>Sam picks up the bottle of honey, sniffs it and finds the sweet smell inside appealing. He pours some of the honey onto his oatmeal and sets it aside. Picking up his spoon, Sam stirs the honey into the oatmeal. He then scoops up a bite, blows on it and then eats it. The warming sweetness from that bite soothes its way down Sam’s throat and his stomach enthusiastically gurgles.</p>
<p>“Take it slow, mind,” Castiel says. “So these twins did what?”</p>
<p>“They dealt with the cut,” Sam explains. “I fell asleep and they were gone the following morning.”</p>
<p>Shifting in his armchair, Castiel looks thoughtful as he eats his oatmeal. Swallowing, he asks, “How were you wounded?”</p>
<p>“I was attacked one night. A man with yellow eyes and a whole bunch of other people came at me and… I got away, but one of them had this sword and….” Sam’s voice trails off.</p>
<p>“You were lucky you were able to get away.” Castiel leans forward in his seat and plucks one of the cups of tea from the tray. “That was Azazel.”</p>
<p>“Azazel?”</p>
<p>“The man with yellow eyes. A very powerful and dangerous psy. He leads a cult of psys and non-psys. They believe the great cataclysm of two centuries ago was preordained. Destiny.” Castiel sips his tea. “It was not. But nonetheless the damage caused by it has eaten away at our world.”</p>
<p>“New Lawrence seems fine,” Sam points out.</p>
<p>“New Lawrence has protections against the ravages of the cataclysm. But only because it was built after the original city fell.” Castiel looks thoughtful again and then sets his tea down. He returns to his oatmeal.</p>
<p>Sam thought he understood what the cataclysm was, but as he sits in Castiel’s room, in this very old bunker, Sam starts to think that perhaps he doesn’t. He knows the world beyond New Lawrence is inhospitable and dangerous, only cities like New Lawrence are safe. Though travel between the cities is difficult. But he doesn’t know how any of this came to be.</p>
<p>The ruins beyond New Lawrence’s high walls show that a world used to exist in the wastes.</p>
<p>“What was the cataclysm? What happened?” Sam scoops up some oatmeal and eats it.</p>
<p>Castiel sets aside his empty oatmeal bowl and picks up his tea. “An event where humankind foolishly ripped the essence of this universe apart.”</p>
<p>Sam looks to Castiel, nonplussed. “That sounds ridiculous.”</p>
<p>Castiel smiles at Sam and gives him a pitying look. “Oh if only. Have you not ever wondered where psys come from, Sam?”</p>
<p>“We’re a mutation.”</p>
<p>“Yes and what caused that mutation?”</p>
<p>Sam shakes his head.</p>
<p>“The cataclysm. That pulling apart of the fabric of reality. In came things that were not meant to be and the forces involved affected humanity on a fundamental level in some cases.” Castiel finishes his tea. “There are things, beings, Sam, in the wastes that no human can reasonably expect to deal with. Most of the world was abandoned because of these… creatures.”</p>
<p>“But I didn’t see anything else out there other than-”</p>
<p>“These creatures are not drawn to psys, but we can kill them if we must.” Castiel stands and stretches. “Though not all are a danger.”</p>
<p>“What are they?”</p>
<p>“Creatures, beings, from between the planes of existence. They are not meant to be here, but they are. And the cataclysm continues to draw them towards us, while spiriting away the essence of what allows life to be here in this world.” Castiel rolls his shoulders. “Azazel is wrong. He thinks that to survive, psys should overrun the cities and take control.</p>
<p>“Azazel doesn’t have a clue. To survive, the wound of the cataclysm needs to be closed once and for all. Then and only then will your world, our reality, be able to heal.”</p>
<p>Sam sets his spoon down, oatmeal finished. He picks up his cup of tea, trying to think of what to say to Castiel. Everything he has ever known is potentially a lie of some sort. He doesn’t think Dean even knows any of this—and he works for Halo, an agency charged with keeping psys under control, which translates as rounding them up.</p>
<p>“Castiel, where is this? What is it? What do you mean ‘your’?”</p>
<p>Castiel takes the tray from Sam’s lap and sets it down on the floor. He plucks the tea cup from Sam’s hands and sets it down also. He then sits on the bed beside Sam, making the mattress dip.</p>
<p>“Cas-”</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Castiel’s hands are suddenly on either side of Sam’s head. His blue eyes glow, bright and ethereal as the older man leans in and takes Sam’s mind into his hands. All at once, Sam can see a man before him who is older than possibility and so beyond Sam’s notions of anything that he can’t begin to comprehend the whole. Only bits and pieces come to him as Castiel reads not only his mind, but every memory and emotion Sam has ever felt. Blue light suffuses the room and Sam feels light in his own body, like he’s a leaf bobbing on top of an immense lake. Energies previously unknown to him stream through his being, and he has a vague sense of them stretching all the way beyond the walls of the bunker, towards a place he can’t quite see or feel.</p>
<p>A connection between them builds as the seconds stretch on before them. Sam manages to see Castiel or a part of him. He’s more than a psy, that Sam can sense in his gut. And he’s more than a doctor as well. He’s a being of infinity and light. Sam doesn’t want to leave Castiel’s light, it feels like acceptance and belonging, strength and determination, like everything will be alright in the world again.</p>
<p>The light begins to dim and Sam’s eyes readjust to the bunker’s electric haze. Castiel’s hands are still either side of Sam’s head and Castiel looks at him with reverence and devotion. Sam can feel himself blushing under the intense gaze.</p>
<p>“I haven’t hoped in a very long time,” Castiel starts, “to find someone who might be able to bring this world back from the brink.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s true that Castiel is rarely a big believer in destiny, but his finding Sam is revealing itself to be the cogs of the multiverse finally shifting in his favor. Part of Castiel wants to drag Sam straightaway to the world wound—but that would be foolish. Sam is in no state to travel and Castiel can’t heal psys like he can regular humans.</p><p><em>Interesting how little of their own reality the authorities let their people know</em>, Castiel thinks to himself as he returns to Sam’s room. After he had made contact with Sam’s mind, he had left so that Sam could rest and regain more strength.</p><p>Just as he opens the door, Castiel finds Sam trying to dress himself in borrowed clothes. Leaning against the door, Castiel surveys the scene with a faint hint of amusement. Though he’s less impressed by the IV line having been taken out without assistance.</p><p>“And where are you going?” Castiel asks.</p><p>“I need to… I need to get back to Dean. My brother. He’s in trouble.” Sam pulls a fresh Henley over his head, covering the golden figured necklace that hangs from his neck.</p><p>“You know this how?” Castiel already has an idea how Sam knows.</p><p>Sam wobbles on his feet as he tries to pull towards him the cargo pants he was going to put on. “I saw it.”</p><p>“Saw it?”</p><p>“In a-”</p><p>“Dream, right?”</p><p>Looking up, surprised, Sam nods then winces. “Yeah… I had a dream.”</p><p>“Or rather a painful skull cracking vision, yes?”</p><p>“I’ve never experienced anything like it so… intensely before.”</p><p>“Then I’ll help you. It is difficult to get into New Lawrence from this side.” Castiel heads to the old wardrobe that looks as good as the day it had been brought into the bunker.</p><p>“I was just going to go the way I left.”</p><p>Castiel starts picking out a fresh outfit for himself and reaching for things he thinks Sam might be able to fit. “That way will no longer be open to you. You need someone who knows ways in and out that the police and Halos know nothing of.”</p><p>“And you do?” Sam asks in disbelief.</p><p>“How else do you think I am able to supply you with the medical treatment that you still need?” Castiel points out.</p><p>“I thought that…”</p><p>“That I got it from the wastes? Hm? There are no shops or stores in the wastes. Maybe the odd market or bazaar. But they have become rarer with each passing year.” Castiel picks out a fresh pair of cargo pants and a jacket for himself. “Most supplies the wastes have come from scavenging and raids—on people and transporters between cities alike.”</p><p>Silence stretches out between them as Castiel and Sam finish dressing. Castiel hands Sam the boots he had been wearing as they’re still good. He doesn’t doubt that Sam’s brother is in trouble—he’s met psys with sight before. What’s different is that most psys only have one ability they’re strongly blessed with.</p><p>Flexing his shoulders, Castiel feels Sam brushing against his mind again. “I thought you would have gotten enough of a look earlier?” Castiel smirks as he puts a hand through his hair.</p><p>“Sorry,” Sam replies nervously. “I didn’t mean to.”</p><p>Castiel steps over to Sam and touches his shoulder gently. “We’ll see what we can do about that as well.”</p><p>***</p><p>“I feel like I’m going to fall off!” Sam says through his mask and yells over the sound of rushing wind as they sail across the sand and dirt between the bunker and New Lawrence.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Castiel only uses his glider for long trips, ones over a few hours on foot. The bottom of the glider is a repurposed dingy with a wooden and metal hull, with chunky rubber wheels on axles underneath, touching the gears connected to a small electric engine and battery. From the hull, a small sail mast extends and on the sides of the hull inside and out are solar panels. There are handrails, but the dingy is surprisingly fast and the suspension takes getting used to.</p><p>“I suggest you don’t!” Castiel shouts back. He steers the glider using a wheel set at the back. Dust stings his exposed cheeks, but he’s wrapped his face as much as he possibly can against the wind.</p><p>It’s still daylight, for which Castiel is grateful. Getting into New Lawrence in the dark would be helpful, but encountering Azazel and his followers in the dark would be more than inconvenient. Castiel knows he could likely escape Azazel on his own if he had to, but he fears for Sam encountering that rabble again in his present state.</p><p>Halfway to the city, Castiel stops the glider, anchoring it with a touch of his hand and a pulse of power. The stop provides Sam and Castiel the chance to drink and stretch without risk of falling overboard or swallowing a mouthful of dirt.</p><p>The horizon seems nearly endless, but turning one way, Castiel can see the tip of New Lawrence’s glimmering towers reaching out against aggressive entropy. Castiel stows his water canteen away and is about to tell Sam to do the same when he hears a low distant rumble.</p><p>“Down!” Castiel hisses and yanks Sam and the mast into the bottom of the hull. The sail retracts into the mast as it clinks into its new position. Pressing a button on the side of the hull, the static electricity around them increases as the glider’s camouflage activates.</p><p>Distantly Castiel can hear the sound of engines rumbling along in the distance, getting closer with every passing second. He hopes that no one saw them before he acted.</p><p>Even through Sam’s goggles, Castiel can see his questioning look, but Castiel holds his hand up to ask for silence. If he trains Sam right, they could have future discussions like this through using only their minds.</p><p>The rumbling intensifies and the patrol ends up passing within half a mile of where the two of them are hiding. Castiel waits, counting to five thousand, before he sits up again.</p><p>Sam’s neck crunches as he flexes it, trying to get the kinks out. “Are they gone?”</p><p>“For now, yes.”</p><p>“Who were they?”</p><p>“A patrol, likely from New Lawrence. Perhaps looking for you.” <em>Which is unusual, </em>Castiel thinks,<em> as they don’t normally bother to go hunting after Sam’s kind runs beyond their borders</em>. “It’s rare that the city’s authorities patrol these days.”</p><p>Deactivating the camouflage with a press of a button, Castiel stands and begins to get the sail back out again. He works in silence, thoughtful about what the patrol might mean.</p><p>“Do you have any idea as to where your brother might be in the city?” Castiel queries as he finishes setting the glider back to rights.</p><p>Sam ducks his head for a moment as if lost in deep concentration. “I think… An apartment. I… don’t recognize it. But it’s somewhere… um… near the mayor’s office. I can hear… the monorail.”</p><p>Castiel thinks over the information and nods. He’s grown to know New Lawrence like the backs of his hands. “I think I know the complex you mean. Let’s go.”</p><p>The glider sets off again, Castiel and Sam holding on tight. As they draw closer to the shining spires of the metropolis, Castiel can’t stop thinking about the patrol. It’s more likely that the patrol wasn’t looking for Sam, but Castiel dislikes what it might mean if there’s someone or something else in the city’s sights.</p><p>***</p><p>Hiding the glider near the city limits, Castiel brings Sam through tunnels mined in the dirt outside the city. The tunnels connect up with former sewage systems, and while the city no longer pumps its waste away—instead sensibly choosing to recycle it—the funk of centuries old detritus is not to be overestimated. Castiel touches the side of Sam’s mask to change its setting so he doesn’t die from the noxious fumes as they join the former sewers.</p><p>“What is this place?” Sam asks.</p><p>“Old sewers. Be careful where you step,” Cas says as he flips a switch on his own goggles to send beams of light ahead into the brick walled channel. “Don’t hang around in one spot too long or the rats will find you. And let me tell you, the rats beneath this city are ferocious, hungry beasts.”</p><p>“Ugh, noted,” Sam replies, putting on his own goggle lights and the two of them set out into the sewers.</p><p>Castiel keeps his senses trained for anything that isn’t Sam or him as they move in the cramped space. There’s hardly enough room for either of them to stand upright and Castiel finds himself wishing that the surface level entrances still remained. Sadly, the police and Halos were always too good at finding those. Surface level breaches lasted a few days if you were lucky—that’s why he is so certain that Sam’s escape route would have been dealt with as soon as possible.</p><p>For as much as New Lawrence and its authorities wanted to keep the wastes out, it also wanted to keep its people in. Castiel has tried his best over the years to understand the ways of humans, but their sense of paranoia over anything “other” still puzzle him.</p><p>“Cas—may I call you that?” Sam asks as they round a bend.</p><p>The nickname, though muffled through Sam’s mask, does sound nice. Castiel chuckles. “You may call me Cas.”</p><p>“I… saw things. When you touched me back at the bunker.”</p><p>“You did, hm?” Cas can tell where this line of questioning is going.</p><p>“Are you human? Psy? What are you?” Despite the questions, Sam doesn’t draw away. He stays close to Castiel.</p><p>“I’m not sure. But I do know that I’m not human. I just… chose this form for this world.”</p><p>“When you said, ‘not all are a danger’, you were referring to yourself, right?”</p><p>“Yes. Though there are other creatures like me that have come through the world wound.”</p><p>They continue walking on through the dank space. Molds of all colors and textures have colonized sections of the sewers, some almost sparkling in their lights and then leaving a hue of green or blue phosphorescence tingling in the darkness when the lights move on. Silence stretches out between Sam and Castiel’s words until-</p><p>“If we close the rift, the world wound as you say it… What will become of you?” Sam asks</p><p>“I don’t know,” Castiel answers honestly. “I’m connected in a way to it. But I don’t know what will happen to me.”</p><p>“If you’re connected to it… Would you die if we closed it?”</p><p>A feeling of affection dances across Castiel’s many senses and in the lamplit dark, Castiel turns to face Sam. Unable to touch Sam’s face, Castiel does with setting his hand reassuringly (he hopes) on Sam’s shoulder.</p><p>“You’re right, I am connected. And I don’t want to die. But equally, I want our world to have a chance of living again.” Castiel sighs and squeezes, sending the barest feelings of reassurance across the contact. “I wasn’t meant to be here in the first place. And maybe I will go home, back to between. I just can’t see your world, you, the life here, suffer any more.”</p><p>The sense of unease coming off of Sam is palpable, even as he nods in understanding. “Okay.”</p><p>“Now,” Castiel starts, drawing back his hand with a twinge of regret, “we still have a mile of sewer to go and,” he listens to the sound of distant scrabbling getting slowly closer, “there may be rats on our tail. Let’s go.”</p><p>“Yes!”</p><p>Castiel turns back to the direction they had been walking and continues to lead the way. As they carefully navigate through the ancient structure, Castiel tries not to think about what will happen to him and the others like him when the rift goes. He truly wants Sam’s world to be free of the world wound’s dangers, but as Sam remains close behind him, Castiel is starting to feel that perhaps there is at least someone in this world that is worth staying around for.</p><p>And that feeling in of itself is one Castiel wishes to explore, because he’s never felt an affinity towards a specific human before. Or rather he’s never felt this way towards one before. While he has a fondness for the twins that Sam had met and who Castiel had helped in the past, and a few other humans out in the wastes—the feelings he feels for Sam are deeper, different.</p><p>Reflecting on Sam and what he likes about him—the way his voice rumbles through him when they have no masks, or the cut of his hair and jaw, those bright hazel eyes—Castiel realizes that copying a human’s appearance and biology quite closely may have had other side effects. Adjusting himself discretely as he walks, Castiel takes a moment to calm himself.</p><p>Instead he thinks of the mind he brushed against back in the bunker and cradled in his hands. A kind, nurturing mind, with a fierce sense of loyalty that only wants what’s best for his friends and family. Then he recalls the heady sense of wonder Sam had felt at the contact and again, Castiel finds he needs to calm himself.</p><p><em>I was not expecting this</em>, Castiel thinks to himself as they draw close to their target—a metal ladder Castiel replaced a few years ago. The rungs set firmly in the blocks, forced there by Castiel’s own hands. <em>I was not one who thought I could experience this sense of… longing. But here I am. Still, we need to rescue his brother, Dean</em>. Castiel, with effort, sets aside his thoughts about Sam and focuses on their mission.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daylight threatens to blind Sam as his eyes adjust to the sunlight filtering in through the disused atrium they’ve walked into. Perching his goggles on the top of his head and pulling his mask down, Sam takes in a deep breath of non-fetid air and looks around. The space is empty, but huge tiles of glass loom above, over the bare concrete beneath them.</p>
<p>They had wound up inside an old cleaning closet. Still filled with old cleanbots and chemicals. Looking around the empty atrium, Sam really can’t seem to remember what this space may have been. He’s not sure it’s ever been used in his memory.</p>
<p>“What is this place?” Sam asks Cas.</p>
<p>Cas pulls up his own goggles, brilliant blue eyes analytical as they look around. Cas pulls his mask down and says, “I’m unsure. It’s one of the few old structures from Lawrence that survived. I feel as if maybe it would have been a place for gatherings… maybe music. Joy. And then it was abandoned as your authorities decided against it.”</p>
<p>That sounded about right for the kinds of people in charge of New Lawrence. About the only entertainment anyone in the city could get were Football (legal), booze in bars (legal), prostitutes (depends on who’s in office), books (which ones depends on who’s in office), and some art (who or what is again affected by the powers that be).</p>
<p>Music is certainly frowned upon.</p>
<p>“I’ve heard music, perhaps, three or four times,” Sam says as he draws level with Cas. “It’s so beautiful.”</p>
<p>“It’s probably why your leaders ban it.” Cas licks his lips and Sam can’t help himself from following the movement. “When we’re back at the bunker, I will play you some. I have many recordings stored safely there.”</p>
<p>Sam’s eyes lit up. “You have music?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>A feeling of hope and desire creeps into Sam’s chest, but he tempers down the sense of desire. He looks around the light empty space and asks, “How do we get to the mayor’s office from here?”</p>
<p>“First, we need to change.” Cas looks around. “This way.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The holo clothing fools Sam’s eyes as they try to discreetly pass checkpoints and crowds, making their way through New Lawrence. He can still feel his actual clothes and their textures underneath, but the hologram fabric fits perfectly. The two of them look like everyone else or near enough. Simple, plain pants and baggy shirts. Flat black sandals.</p>
<p>Inside New Lawrence, the temperature and weather is different to the wastes, monitored and controlled by an intricate weather system that the mayor’s office regulates. It’s always the right temperature in the city.</p>
<p>Sam had once read a book as a child, <em>White Fang</em>, and had read about this stuff called “snow”. But it has never snowed in New Lawrence, and Sam only knows that snow is cold and white. He wonders if it ever snows out in the wastes and decides to ask Cas later—a question like that now would sound weird if anyone else heard them.</p>
<p>Turning down one street, Sam gets a flash of a vision. He tries to act like nothing is wrong, but Cas instantly senses something is up. They crowd into a doorway set back from everyone, with Cas covering him as they stand.</p>
<p>Sam sees Dean sitting tied to a chair in the apartment he’s previously seen. But the vision is different now. A man he doesn’t recognize is questioning Dean. Sam can’t hear what’s being said, they’re whispering and he can’t get closer. And then the man reaches behind Dean and his hands are free. Dean rolls his eyes and stands, the stranger backing out of the way. Dean leaves.</p>
<p>Grinding his teeth with effort not to yell out in pain, Sam harshly whispers, “They’ve let him go.”</p>
<p>Cas tenses beside him, but then says only, “Okay.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know where he’s going,” Sam points out.</p>
<p>Cas looks thoughtful for a moment. “Does your brother like to drink?”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Entering the sixth bar is when Cas’s hunch pays off. Sam looks around the dank space—they’ve managed to make their way into the slightly shadier part of the city—and Dean’s sitting in a booth by himself and being given a wide berth by the other patrons. A Halo agent sat with their uniform on and a gun out on the table will do that.</p>
<p>Sam leads the way over to Dean, slowly, making sure that they don’t surprise him. The other people keep their heads down and talk among themselves, but Sam can feel their interest. <em>Who are these two suckers who want to get aired out?</em> Sam thinks to himself and holds back a desperate chuckle.</p>
<p>The two of them are on Dean’s periphery when he scoops up his sidearm and points it at Sam in one fluid motion. It takes a split second for recognition to hit and then Dean’s arm wavers, before he lowers the gun and springs up from his seat to pull Sam into a rib breaking hug.</p>
<p>“You son of a b-” the rest of Dean’s words are muffled into Sam’s neck. Dean pulls back, looks Sam over and then his eyes catch on Cas and suddenly it’s business as usual.</p>
<p>“Who’s he?” Dean almost growls.</p>
<p>“This is Castiel. Cas,” Sam supplies and motions to the booth. “Think we can have a drink? It’s been a long day.”</p>
<p>Minutes later and the three of them are crowded in the booth. Sam is jammed against the wall, Cas at his hip. Sam’s surprised by how little Cas is saying, but Sam can feel that he’s on edge, more so than he has been at any point on their trip. Though Sam’s not about to complain about the closeness.</p>
<p>Dean knocks back a shot of synthetic whiskey and sets his glass down. “What’s his deal?” He points a finger at Cas.</p>
<p>“Helped me… out on the wastes,” Sam offers, fingers playing with his own shot glass. He still hasn’t drunk his first shot.</p>
<p>“But you got out? Why’d you come back?! You were out!” Dean hisses.</p>
<p>Sam glares at him and shakes his head. “I thought you were in trouble.”</p>
<p>“Me?”</p>
<p>“You were being held by the agency, right?” Sam nods in the direction of the front door. “Until a little while ago and then for some reason they let you go.”</p>
<p>Dean snorts and pours himself another shot. “They got bigger fish to fry.”</p>
<p>Cas leans in at that and stares at Dean. “We saw a patrol on the way here. The city hardly ever sends out patrols.”</p>
<p>Dean quirks an eyebrow and lounges back, shot glass dangling from the tips of his fingers. “That’s because, rather than wondering how one psy got out, they’re all kinda worried about a whole cult’s worth of them getting in and with back up.”</p>
<p>“Azazel,” Cas says solemnly.</p>
<p>“You know him then?” Dean nods at Cas.</p>
<p>Nodding, Cas sits back. “Mostly by reputation.”</p>
<p>“I had a run in with him and his people,” Sam pipes up.</p>
<p>That gets Dean’s attention. He sets his shot down and stares at Sam. “What?”</p>
<p>“They found me and, yeah, I eventually got away. Cut me pretty bad, but some twins and then Cas helped me out.”</p>
<p>“Dammit, I should have been there.” Dean picks up the shot glass again and knocks down the whiskey.</p>
<p>“This is all well and good, but Azazel has been looking to get into the city and raise some hell for many years now. Why the sudden concern?” Cas asks.</p>
<p>Dean glances around them, making sure no one is looking at them and then says in a low voice, “Because Azazel apparently has a new weapon.”</p>
<p>“A new weapon?”</p>
<p>“Like I said.”</p>
<p>“What kind of weapon?” Sam asks.</p>
<p>Dean rolls his eyes and glares at Sam. “Do you think the agency is going to tell me every single niggling detail while I’m being held for interrogation?! What I know I picked up from listening to conversations I shouldn’t have.”</p>
<p>“We saw no sign of Azazel on our way here,” Cas points out. “But I’ve been thinking about where Sam likely encountered the cult and the direction the city’s patrol had come from…” Cas pauses expression grim. “That would suggest they’re near the rift, likely heading towards it.”</p>
<p>“The rift’s just a story.” Dean shakes his head. “It’s not real.”</p>
<p>“It is very real.” Cas stands. “Come, we need to head back and get ready to head to the world wound.”</p>
<p>“I’m not coming anywhere with you,” Dean states, longing back against his seat. “And maybe Sammy shouldn’t either.”</p>
<p>Sam frowns. “I’m not staying here. I might be able to help.”</p>
<p>“Bullshit.” Dean stands. “I’m not losing you again.”</p>
<p>“I’m going with Cas.” Sam stands as well.</p>
<p>“There’s nothing to go chasing after Sam. And what are you gonna do? You just… see things. You don’t-”</p>
<p>Sam looks up and towards the door the same time that Cas does. Hairs standing up on the back of his neck.</p>
<p>“There’s something here,” the two of them say in unison and then look at each other in surprise.</p>
<p>“Enough with the double act, wouldya?” Dean steps out of the booth and looks towards the door.</p>
<p>Sam’s not sure what he can sense, but it feels like a tightly wound coil of pure evil that wants to kill and keep on killing. A scream cuts through the air and Sam’s running before he can stop himself, Cas and Dean on his heels.</p>
<p>They run down a side street, Sam following what he can sense and then he comes to a skittering stop on the cobbles. In front of him, beside a disused fountain, stands a towering humanoid creature of dark fur, long claws, elongated snout, yellow eyes and blood soaked teeth. It could almost have been a wolf, like in old books Sam had read when he was a kid, but it wasn’t a wolf.</p>
<p>At the creature’s feet is a dead woman, her chest ripped open and Sam is pretty sure she’s missing her heart.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Cas and Dean reach Sam’s side, standing on his left and right respectively.</p>
<p>“What the hell is that?” Dean demands.</p>
<p>Cas takes a step forward, brandishing a silver thin blade in his right hand. “A monster borne of the rift.”</p>
<p>“Those things are only out on the wastes!” Dean raises his gun.</p>
<p>“Normally, yes.” Cas takes up a fighting stance.</p>
<p>Without any weapon to hand, Sam takes a step back. He has no way he can help.</p>
<p>“How’d it get here?”</p>
<p>“My guess? Whatever it is Azazel is up to.” Cas doesn’t share any more words. He runs forward and leaps at the monster, bringing his silver blade down and shoving it through its ribs.</p>
<p>Dean gets a shot off, but then the monster throws Cas off and heads towards Dean. He fires his gun again, the bullet hitting home, but it does nothing.</p>
<p>Without thinking, Sam takes a step towards the thing and draws his hand in front of himself, as if backhanding the air in front of him. The monster flies into the air and slams back against the disused fountain, cracking the concrete base. Blood pumps in Sam’s ears as his heart hammers hard.</p>
<p>Cas gets up and jumps onto the monster’s prone form, sinking the blade into another location. The monster howls and then there’s a blinding yellow light, making Sam close his eyes and then they’re alone by the broken fountain and the poor dead woman.</p>
<p>Sam doesn’t know what’s going on anymore as his head swims a little and Cas and Dean start dragging him away from the fountain. They pass through the city, avoiding cameras and patrols, until they’re finally at the atrium from earlier.</p>
<p>Dean and Cas lay Sam down on the dusty floor, and he tries to understand what’s going on, but passes out before he can.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It feels like this could become a habit.</p>
<p>Sam’s unconscious and in Castiel’s bed, again. There’s a fresh drip hydrating Sam and trying to rebalance his electrolytes. Castiel just sits in a chair beside him, watching, waiting. He wishes he could help Sam out of whatever this is—the strain of recovery. But his healing powers just do not work on psys—Castiel has speculated many a time that it’s due to something with the rift.</p>
<p>Footsteps get louder outside his room, until Dean pokes his head through the door and glances in.</p>
<p>“He, uh, awake yet?” Dean asks and then winces.</p>
<p>Castiel frowns and stands up from his chair. He walks over to Dean. “No, but I think his reserves just need to be built up once more.” Turning his attention back to Dean, Castiel reaches out.</p>
<p>“Hey, now, what are you doing?!” Dean yelps, Castiel’s hand wrapping around his wrist.</p>
<p>“You’re hurt.”</p>
<p>Dean grunts. “Musta caught myself on something in the sewers.” He shakes Castiel’s hand off, or rather Castiel lets go. Hands free, Dean rolls up the hem of the t-shirt he’s wearing and reveals a long gash down his side.</p>
<p>“Allow me.” Castiel brings his hand to Dean’s side and meets Dean’s gaze. Castiel’s hand hovers over the wound site.</p>
<p>“Wait-” Dean’s cut off as Castiel’s power flows out to him in a blue light that feels warm, and sets to work on the gash. Dead cells disappear and new ones knit themselves into place while infection is sucked out. The process takes seconds and then Castiel pulls his hand away from Dean.</p>
<p>“There. You should be fine now.” Castiel turns and goes back to his seat beside Sam.</p>
<p>Standing in the doorway, suddenly a statue, Dean just stands there for several minutes. Castiel can sense the kinds of thoughts rushing around and around in Dean’s head. He’s had a lot to take in and not even twenty-four hours have passed yet since the bar.</p>
<p>“You healed me,” Dean states in an unsure voice.</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“How?” Dean stays where he is in the doorway. “And what about the creatures that were coming for us out in the wastes?”</p>
<p>Castiel smiles. The journey back to the bunker had been tense, with Dean a constant draw for rift creatures. Castiel had held the creatures back by his will alone, but it had been draining; now that he’s healed Dean, Castiel also needs to gather his strength back to be ready for their mission.</p>
<p>“You’re some super powerful psy, right?” Dean prompts.</p>
<p>Letting out a long breath, Castiel shakes his head. “I’m not a psy.”</p>
<p>“Then what the hell are you?” Dean takes a step closer and Castiel catches a whiff of fear for Sam.</p>
<p>Castiel knows what he says now has the huge potential to threaten what little alliance he has built with Dean, and potentially Sam if Dean tries to take him away. <em>Got to do this right</em>, Castiel thinks. Standing, Castiel draws himself to his full height, standing several inches taller than Dean.</p>
<p>The room is suddenly too small and too big at the same time. Time crawls to nothing and the air stops moving. Castiel’s eyes glow blue and he stands before Dean, shadows of wings painting the walls behind him.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Without speaking, Castiel says:</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>I am of the rift. Like the monsters.</em></p>
<p>Dean pales.</p>
<p>“Get the hell away from my brother!”</p>
<p><em>I misjudged this</em>. Castiel shrinks back to his more human form and time comes back to the room.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Castiel says lamely, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”</p>
<p>Dean looks at him with his eyes wide in disbelief. “What the fuck did you think was going to happen?! Oh my-”</p>
<p>“Hey, can you guys keep it down,” Sam croaks from the bed.</p>
<p>Castiel’s attention snaps to Sam, as does Dean’s.</p>
<p>“You’re okay!” Dean cries and climbs on the bed to sit beside his brother, taking his non-drip hand between his own. “Can you cut it with this scary stuff, huh?”</p>
<p>Sam smiles at Dean and then Castiel, before looking back to Dean. “I don’t know how much control I really have over that.”</p>
<p>Dean seems to remember that he was just freaking out over Castiel and looks over to him again. “Sam, we need to get out of here.”</p>
<p>“We can trust Cas.”</p>
<p>Dean’s nostrils flare. “He says he’s like the monsters!”</p>
<p>Sam chuckles and sighs. “Really? And how many of those monsters have made you a sandwich and coffee?”</p>
<p>“How’d you…?”</p>
<p>“Because I do. Dean. Look, Castiel knows what’s going on and he can help us. He’s got nothing to hide.”</p>
<p>“Say I believe that this rift is real. What happens to all the monsters… to Castiel here if you close it?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Castiel supplies. “But I’m willing to take the risk.”</p>
<p>Dean gets off the bed and squares himself up to Castiel. “You’re an idiot.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps.” Castiel shrugs.</p>
<p>“Don’t show off next time you’re trying to introduce yourself.” Dean says and then his stomach gives a loud rumble.</p>
<p>“You know where the kitchen is?” Castiel asks.</p>
<p>Dean nods, an embarrassed look on his face and hurries off.</p>
<p>“We need to work on the way you introduce yourself,” Sam says and then yawns. “First… impressions are… everything.”</p>
<p>“My people skills are rusty,” Castiel admits and then goes to check Sam’s drip.</p>
<p>“I think I can change that,” Sam offers.</p>
<p>Another pang of longing hits Castiel and he looks over to Sam. Waves of the same feeling are rippling against Castiel’s awareness and he has to steady himself against it, less it quickly overwhelms him.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“Again.” Castiel straightens his back, letting out a long breath and settling his palms back down on his crossed legs.</p>
<p>Time is on their side, with Castiel having determined that the cult is leaving the rift alone for the moment, put off by New Lawrence’s patrols. But how long this will last is anyone’s guess. Castiel’s determination to ensure Sam can survive an encounter with Azazel and the cult are why the two of them are in the training room.</p>
<p>The training room’s mats are perfect for practicing punches, kicks, grapples and holds, or growing psychic skills. It’s also quiet and away from whatever music Dean is in exploring nearer the library. Sam had also wanted to listen to music, but Castiel pointed out the need to get Sam up to speed with his abilities.</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>Again</em>, Castiel thinks at Sam, throwing the word in among his thoughts.</p>
<p>He can feel Sam settling once more, drawing himself to a point of calm and stillness. It takes a moment, but then Castiel can feel a whisper inside of himself. The word repeats, getting louder and louder as sweat starts to bead Sam’s forehead.</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>Castiel</em>, comes through from Sam. He gasps and catches his breath.</p>
<p>“Did you hear that?” Sam asks, breathing ragged.</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>Again</em>, Castiel orders.</p>
<p>Sam’s shaking now and Castiel can see the effort it’s taking him to use his telepathy. The only reassurance Castiel was able to offer before they started was that it would get easier with practice.</p>
<p>This time the message comes through faster and clearer.</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>Kiss me</em>, Sam pleads.</p>
<p>Those two words are like a match to tinder. Castiel launches himself at Sam, shifting swiftly across the mats. He pulls Sam down to the floor and brings their mouths together for the first time, hands tangling in Sam’s hair.</p>
<p>Sam tastes of honey and coffee. His body is warm and pliant beside Castiel’s as they roll to face each other, breaths short and hot as they kiss over and over. Castiel’s previous experience of kissing was seeing humans in old films do it, but he’s studied them closely and soon has Sam moaning into his mouth as his hips buck towards Castiel’s own.</p>
<p>Castiel’s too distracted to hear the door to the training room open an inch and then quickly close again. Instead he steals Sam’s breath as Sam steals his, the two of them dizzy with want and need.</p>
<p>Finally they pull back from each other and fall onto their backs on the training mat. Sam starts to giggle and Castiel doesn’t understand what’s funny.</p>
<p>“What’s so funny?” Castiel asks.</p>
<p>“I think Dean… walked in on us,” Sam says between gasps as he tries to get his breath back.</p>
<p>Castiel doesn’t understand how or why that’s funny, but he worries that Dean might be angry with him again. The past few days they’d been doing well and Castiel didn’t want them to start going backwards once more.</p>
<p>Standing up, Castiel straightens his clothes and motions for Sam to join him. “We should probably go find Dean and talk with him.”</p>
<p>Sam agrees and the two of them go in search of Dean, which would have been simple if they weren’t in the bunker. Castiel suspects that the bunker likely has squirreled Dean away somewhere so that he’s not disturbed by them. The bunker likes doing nice things for people.</p>
<p>Such nice things that Castiel wonders that if he and Sam had been kissing for much longer, condoms might have appeared in the training room along with lube. Still, the bunker could equally make it near impossible to find Dean until Dean felt like he wanted to be found.</p>
<p>Walking the hallways of the bunker, Castiel enjoys having the reassuring presence of Sam at his side. Being almost as old as time, Castiel has never felt so close to another lifeform. It’s outside of his scope of experience and as they look for Dean, Castiel realizes that if he doesn’t die once the rift is closed—he’d like to spend more time with Sam.</p>
<p>“What’s that?” Sam asks as they draw towards an area that Castiel thought was a storage space, but it may in fact be a new way into the library. Imposing wooden doors washed in red stain stand at regular intervals along the hallway. Distantly there is the sound of music from before the cataclysm.</p>
<p>“That,” Castiel says, “is music. I believe it’s heavy rock from around the 1980s. I cannot be sure however. The sleeve would tell us.”</p>
<p>“That’s music?” Sam states in disbelief. “I didn’t know it could sound like that.” Sam reaches out a hand and pulls Castiel’s into his own and then drags Castiel towards the door the sounds seem to be coming from.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The closer they get to the music, the more Sam worries that Dean is definitely not cool with what’s going on. Sam’s unable to hear the words of what’s being sung as he and Cas walk into what appears to be a library, and find Dean angrily tapping a foot as he sits and reads a book. There’s piles of tomes around him and several maps strewn on the desk.</p>
<p>Dean looks up at their approach. Sam places the look he gets somewhere between the time he broke his arm as a kid and the time Dean walked in on him getting to third base for the first time with a girl from school.</p>
<p>“Oh, finally, you’ve stopped smushing faces together.” Dean stretches and reaches over to what Cas had previously described to Sam as a record player and pulls up the arm-pin thing. The music stops.</p>
<p>“Yeah, about that,” Sam starts, grip tightening on Castiel’s hand.</p>
<p>“No need to explain, Sammy, just, uh, a little surprised is all.” Dean stands up. “So, you actually get any training done?”</p>
<p><em>That was easier than I was expecting.</em> Sam looks to Cas and then back to Dean. “Some, yes.”</p>
<p>“Good, because I’ve been researching about the area the rift probably is at,” Dean motions over his shoulder with his thumb, “and it looks to be some old research lab. Built in the early 2000s.”</p>
<p>Cas lets go of Sam’s hand heads over to the desk, eyes trained on the maps there. He points at a spot on the one nearest the record player.</p>
<p>“Here,” Cas says, “This is the place. The Dyson Research Center for Advanced Physics.”</p>
<p>“How can you be sure?” Dean asks.</p>
<p>Sam steps beside Dean, looking at the place that Cas is pointing to on the map.</p>
<p>“Because I remember the sign when I walked out of there,” Cas states simply. “Though it was cracked.”</p>
<p>Sam can sense the incredulous look Dean gives Cas, but instead of saying something he studies the details on the map and doesn’t recognize any of the names. It’s past a town that was called Colby and before a city called Denver. But the names mean nothing to Sam.</p>
<p>Finally, Sam looks up from the map. “Cas, what was it like?”</p>
<p>“I’m gonna get a coffee.” Dean turns towards the archway that leads to the kitchen.</p>
<p>“Coming to your world,” Cas starts, voice light and Dean pauses by the archway. Sam sees a flicker of a long held horror trace its way across Castiel’s face. “It was painful. I can’t describe how, exactly, but it was like being set on fire by a thousand stars, and then crushed by a thousand more. It took time for me to heal.”</p>
<p>Dean catches Sam’s eye and then continues on his way to the kitchen. Left alone with Cas again, Sam walks around the desk and puts a hand on Castiel’s shoulder.</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;<em> I’m sorry you had to go through that</em>, Sam pushes to Cas with some effort. His temples throb for a second and then the pain begins to clear.</p>
<p>The “rift monster” turns into Sam’s touch and places a hand on top of Sam’s. Cas seems to bask in the attention and the contact, like a plant perking up in the rain.</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>Thank you</em>. Cas leans in and kisses Sam gently on the mouth.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Sat around the table in the kitchen, maps between them, Dean, Cas and Sam discuss how they’re going to get all the way from the outskirts of Lebanon and towards the rift. Cas has a pencil and is adding in details that time and cataclysm have added to the map, or striking out things that are no longer there.</p>
<p>As Sam starts to feel cold the heating in the bunker seems to rise without either of them having to do a thing. Sam keeps wondering about the place as they work. Castiel’s hints that the space is more than just a place to survive the end times keep surfacing in Sam’s thoughts as they try to plot their next steps.</p>
<p>“With the changes to the terrain over the centuries, we’re looking at more than 400 miles to reach the facility.” Cas sits back and twiddles the pencil between his long fingers. “And it’s through some of the most hotly contested territories in the area, right between some of Azazel’s camps.”</p>
<p>“Just peachy.” Dean sets down his coffee cup. “When do we need to leave?”</p>
<p>“As soon as we can.”</p>
<p>“Which is?”</p>
<p>The conversation between Dean and Cas washes over Sam. A pain prickles at the front of his head and then the kitchen disappears.</p>
<p>“We need to return,” says an unfamiliar man’s voice.</p>
<p>A fire crackles under the open sky littered with stars.</p>
<p>“Why?” says another Sam recognizes. He sees the yellow eyes of Azazel. The psy is sat on an old log. Four others sit on similarly cragged bits of lumber.</p>
<p>“Events are not settled yet, but that creature from the realm… he may soon lead them to the rift,” says the voice Sam heard first. He focuses the attention on the man, who is scrawny with dark hair that stands up jaggedly.</p>
<p>“Hmm, have any other eyes seen this?” Azazel asks.</p>
<p>“I have,” offers a woman from one of the logs. Her hair is long and dark, curling this way and that.</p>
<p>Before Sam can hear or see anymore, the pain in his head explodes and he’s shoved back into the kitchen. Hands gripping the table tight, he grunts in pain, the light of the room too much.</p>
<p>“Sam?!” Dean cries in alarm as hands smooth down Sam’s back.</p>
<p>A press of pressure in one spot on his neck helps Sam to unclench his hands and finally open his eyes again. He stares up at Cas and grimaces.</p>
<p>“We need to leave,” Sam announces and tries to stand. Instead Cas pushes him back down.</p>
<p>Dean comes over and hovers beside them, body tense. “You have one of your visions?”</p>
<p>Sam tries to nod and then stops himself. “Yeah… Azazel is going to start back towards the rift with his followers.”</p>
<p>Castiel’s hands leave Sam and he steps away. “Stay here. I need to find something.” Cas hurries off, leaving Sam with Dean.</p>
<p>Dean says, “You know how crazy this all sounds, right?”</p>
<p>“I do,” Sam replies.</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t believe any of this rift crap if I hadn’t seen what I had these past few days. But, heck, Sam, that you’re somehow going to stop all this mess? It’s kind of a big mind fuck to get around.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, I believe what Cas says is right. That if we go to this rift, I’ll be able to do something.”</p>
<p>“I suppose, but it’s still kinda hard to believe when you seem to get a headache whenever you use whatever these psy powers are.” Dean looks around. “Wonder if he’s got anything you can use for the pain.”</p>
<p>Sam looks towards the counter opposite and sees a bottle of pills on the side. “There.” Sam points.</p>
<p>Dean ambles over and picks up the bottle to then stare at the bottle with the utmost suspicion. “These weren’t here a second ago.”</p>
<p>Sam eyes the kitchen warily. “I think it’s this place.”</p>
<p>Somewhere in the depths of the bunker, the furnace clunks onto another setting, making Dean jump. It sounds like the bunker is listening and responding.</p>
<p>Filling a glass with water, Dean stays silent and sets the water and bottle of aspirin beside Sam. Dean’s disquiet at his surroundings comes across clearly to Sam—the unease and worry. Though just looking at his face offers the same insight.</p>
<p>“I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” Sam offers.</p>
<p>A door closes somewhere down a hallway. It might be Cas, but again the timing is too convenient.</p>
<p>Dean nods. “Sure.”</p>
<p>“I have it!” calls Cas, returning to the kitchen. His hand is held out in front of him and from it hangs a crystal attached to a length of fine silver chain.</p>
<p>“What’s that?” Dean and Sam ask in unison.</p>
<p>Cas reaches the table and holds the crystal out to Sam. “It’s a dowsing crystal. You use it to find things and people. Or you do if you have the right gifts. Here, take it.”</p>
<p>Fumbling the crystal from Cas, Sam tries to hold it as Cas was, letting the crystal dangle below his hand. “Now what?”</p>
<p>“Hold it out over the map and then close your eyes,” Cas instructs. “Calm your mind and think of Azazel. What you know of him. How he looks. Sounds. The color of his eyes. Keep it all together and focus on that.”</p>
<p>Letting out a long, steadying breath, Sam tries to push away the kitchen with its smell of brewing coffee and the sense of having two other people in the room with him. He pushes aside his earlier pain. Sam lets the muscles in his back slacken and his head drops forward. His breaths are deep and full and piece by piece the world around him begins to disappear until it’s just his consciousness and the crystal hanging loosely from his fingers.</p>
<p>He sees Azazel's face—weathered and cruel, bright yellow eyes staring back at him—and hints to the universe at large that he wants to find Azazel. Sam balances this in his mind and feels his hand tugged along, the crystal a growing weight as it circles and circles, looking for the psy. A vortex is forming beneath the crystal as it spins and then without warning, it stops dead and feels like a ton of lead dangling from Sam’s fingers. He breathes in the scent of dirt and wind, open night sky and smoky campfires.</p>
<p>“He’s here,” Sam says, not quite back with the world.</p>
<p>A hand joins his with the crystal and pulls Sam back into himself, packaging him back into that tight space. He opens his eyes and finds Castiel’s face swimming in front of his.</p>
<p>“Well done,” Cas praises and leans in to give Sam a chaste kiss to his cheek. The contact burns and Sam feels like he wants to take it further—pull Cas down with him and bask in that closeness.</p>
<p>“Ahem, anyway. Looks like we need to get moving.” Dean potters about the kitchen. “Yo, you got anything we can take some coffee in?”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Within an hour the glider is packed with what they need for their trip across the wastes. Cas had said that there had been a time where the journey could have been made in five hours, but with the desolation over the past two centuries, the landscape is vastly changed and little of the highways and roads that were once there actually remain.</p>
<p>Sam watches Dean carefully as his brother packs a long thin sword he found and holsters his gun at his hip. Cas also has a gun at his hip, and a staff in hand, but no other weapon—he sees no sign of his earlier thin silver dagger. Sam’s not sure whether he should find something to arm himself with—he’s never fired a gun before and knows nothing about swords.</p>
<p>He paces the bunker’s cavernous garage, trying to figure out what he should do. He’d hoped for more time to train, but that is obviously no longer happening. Taking out the monster in New Lebanon had knocked him out. <em>What can I possibly do to protect us?</em> Sam panics.</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>What’s wrong?</em> Cas queries as he wanders over to Sam.</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;<em> I can’t help fight</em>, Sam points out. <em>I have no weapons and my powers are all over the place.</em></p>
<p>Cas smiles and shakes his head. &gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>You’re talking with me now like it’s hardly anything. A half day ago, you’d be reeling from it, pain meds or no.</em> Cas clasps Sam’s shoulder and squeezes tight. <em>Have faith.</em></p>
<p>Sam swallows and nods. “Okay.”</p>
<p>“We ready to roll?” Dean asks, walking up to them, goggles perched atop his head. “We should start while the going’s good. No idea what we might meet out there, aside from Azazel.”</p>
<p>“You’re right,” Sam says. He feels better about what he can do to help. Cas heads back over to the glider, but Dean remains.</p>
<p>“Here,” Dean presses a stinger, an electric stick, into Sam’s hand. “It won’t kill anything, but it should stop something chowing down on you for a second or two… We got this.”</p>
<p>“We got this,” Sam repeats.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dust streams out behind them as the glider skims across the dirt. Here and there are the empty shells of towns and farmsteads, crumbling into the earth. Hollowed out grain silos stand like rusty razor teeth against a gray sky, their metal sides eaten away by scavengers and the elements. Castiel’s awareness is partly with the glider and its occupants, and partly scanning their surroundings for any signs of danger.</p><p>He’s letting Dean steer them, only nudging him occasionally to change their direction. Stretching his awareness as he is, Castiel also is doing what he can to use his powers to cloak the three of them from Azazel’s “eyes”. The less they know about their journey to the rift, the better.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Sam’s sat in the glider’s hull, body swaying with the craft’s movements as he meditates and draws strength within himself. He’d started after thirty minutes into the journey, once he was use to the motions of the glider again and reassured by Castiel he was doing everything he could to protect them from prying psys.</p><p>Just as they pass another skeleton of a farm, Castiel senses the first living thing they’ve encountered for thirty miles. A family of mole rats has made their home in the farm’s ruins and are happily at play inside. Castiel pushes his awareness away from them and reforms his focus. They still have another six hours of travel ahead as they head in the general direction of what was once the city of Boulder, Colorado.</p><p>Castiel tries not to worry about why they haven’t encountered any rift monsters yet, but as the miles roll on, a creeping sense of suspicion keeps unfurling inside of him.</p><p>It’s only an hour later, when Dean’s and Sam’s legs are starting to cramp from a lack of moving around that Castiel realizes why.</p><p>The glider slowly comes to a stop behind a mound of sand and dirt. A crooked dead tree prays to the sky at the top, like a mocking crown of nature. Castiel hops out of the glider and then helps Dean and Sam to step down. The mechanical movement of making his body work is only a minor hindrance to his attempts to use his powers to keep them hidden.</p><p>Castiel stays beside the glider as Sam and Dean move around, taking some moments to deal with bodily needs that Castiel doesn’t have to indulge in that often. It takes him a moment to realize that the two of them are taking longer than necessary when he looks up at the top of the mound to see the two brothers standing atop it and staring out across the wastes.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>What is it? </em>Castiel sends across to Sam.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>I think you need to see this</em>, Sam replies, worry laced with his message.</p><p>Frowning, Castiel locks the glider’s steering and heads up the mound. He struggles up the crumbling structure, trying not to lose his concentration on keeping them safe. Finally he reaches Sam’s side and he follows his gaze.</p><p>Half a mile from where they stand is a throng of monsters a mile deep and stretching north and south across the horizon. Like some wicked boundary line that no one can cross.</p><p>“Dammit,” Castiel hisses. “I’ve been working so hard on keeping our approach hidden, I wasn’t looking to see what’s ahead.”</p><p>“Hey, this isn’t your fault,” Sam reassures, hand landing on Castiel’s shoulder.</p><p>“Yeah, dude, like… I was wondering why nothing had come to chomp on me. At least we now know why,” Dean offers.</p><p>Castiel’s balance of power slips and he grunts, knees hitting the ground.</p><p>A wave of noise washes over the three of them, the cries, snarls, roars and screams of the hideous fiends ahead of them. Castiel can already sense some prying eyes zeroing in on them and he throws up his protections again, distantly aware of Sam and Dean’s hands on him as they help him up.</p><p>“We can’t go through this,” Castiel says, trying to hold everything together. “And we can’t go around.” He reaches out beyond his form in this world, feeling out for his other limbs, his wings. They’d been damaged when he had been forced through the rift, healing slowly over the centuries.</p><p>“We’ll have to go through,” Sam says.</p><p>Castiel doesn’t need to look at Dean to see the expression of dismay on his face.</p><p>“No way in hell, Sam, no way!” Dean points towards the mass. “They’ll tear me to bits!”</p><p>Castiel gingerly stretches out his wings and beats them. Once. Twice. Dust swirls around them—Sam and Dean stagger.</p><p>“What the hell was that?” Dean cries.</p><p>“My wings,” Castiel says simply. He smiles at the brothers who are now looking at him with a mixture of awe and worry. “We’ll fly over. Leave the glider here and fly past the horde.”</p><p>“You have wings?” Sam asks in surprise.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“You’re insane,” Dean shouts. “There’s no way you can fly. Or fly and carry us with you.”</p><p>Castiel shrugs. “It has been some time… and I haven’t flown since my wings were damaged when I came through the rift.”</p><p>Dean looks at Castiel with a look of horror, eyes widening as he does the math. “You mean to say you want to fly after not having done it for two hundred years? Wow, you really are insane.”</p><p>“Will they work?” Sam asks, eyes moving back towards the threat ahead.</p><p>“Probably,” Castiel offers.</p><p>“Not sure if you’ve noticed, Cas, but while you might be some super strong, I don’t know what-”</p><p>“Your kind once called our kind angels,” Castiel points out. “Though I don’t know why.”</p><p>That stops the conversation. Apparently, religious texts are available in New Lawrence. Sam and Dean’s eyes are wide with surprise and—in Sam’s case—wonder.</p><p>“Dean, this might work,” Sam says.</p><p>Castiel flexes his wings again and another flurry of wind buffets them. “How about… I go for a short test flight?”</p><p>Dean’s worried expression doesn’t change, but Sam looks far more hopeful.</p><p>“I’ll need to let my protections down,” Castiel warns, “I can’t hold them up and fly. But if I can fly, it’ll get us to the rift quicker anyhow.”</p><p>“So, we’re screwed either way if you try?” Dean protests.</p><p>“Do it.” Sam looks to the monsters and then back to Castiel. “We have more to lose if you don’t.”</p><p>Castiel doesn’t wait for Dean to panic some more. Letting down the protections he had been using, Castiel starts to run. His wings beat behind him and he’s quickly running out of mound to run on. Then, just as he fears he’s going to fall down the other side, his wings catch in the air and he gains uplift, soaring away from Sam and Dean, circling up into the sky.</p><p>Wind rushes past his hair and Cas finds himself pulling his face mask down as he gulps air into his lungs. The rush of flight never felt like this in the between. He cries as he soars higher and higher, his wings slowly growing in visibility beside him as he does, ripping holes in his layers, until gray feathers tipped with gold flank him on either side.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>You did it!</em> Sam says to him, without a flicker of pain across the connection.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>Yes!</em> Castiel replies, as he begins a survey of the hordes ahead. As he suspected, they stretch along either side of their route longer than they have time to go around, especially now that their cover is blown. At the back of his mind, Castiel feels Azazel's psys looking for them.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>We need to get moving</em>. Castiel drifts back down to Sam and Dean, landing in front of them.</p><p>“Take what you need from the glider. We’ll leave it here.”</p><p>Sam and Dean nod without any further questions and hurry down the dirt to do as they’re told. Castiel senses one of Azazel's psys projecting their awareness closer and closer. He makes himself easier to see, brightening up his psychic self until the psy can only see Castiel and not Sam.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;<em> You should turn away</em>, Castiel warns. <em>Turn away now.</em></p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>No rift riffraff is going to tell me what to do</em>, says a woman's voice.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;<em> I warned you.</em></p><p>Castiel projects his full self at the interloper and hears her scream inside his head as her eyes burn away. He can smell her melting flesh even though she’s over a hundred miles from them.</p><p>Returning to himself, Castiel opens his eyes and finds Sam in front of him, staring.</p><p>“What did you do?”</p><p>“What I must. Come.”</p><p>Dean reaches the two of them and Castiel holds Sam and Dean’s hands. From Sam he gets awe. From Dean he gets fear. The idea of flying is truly terrifying the older brother.</p><p>“Don’t worry,” Castiel says as he starts to beat his wings, “I won’t drop you.”</p><p>Dean makes a panicked gurgling noise, speechless as Castiel rises up into the air, his strength pulling the two men close beside him. And then he pushes them all into another dimension, one inside this world. It’s the place where his wings normally live, but where time and distance matter less than being present in humanity’s reality.</p><p>In this space, they can’t be tracked as they fly through. Air still streams past them, and Castiel feels a sense of exhilaration to be flying again and to be showing Sam what it is like. Neither human talks as he flies across the Kansas landscape, the wastes below glimmering as if submerged under a layer of water. <em>From here, it almost looks beautiful</em>, Castiel thinks.</p><p>And then they’re over the monsters, and Castiel brings them back to the world, five miles ahead of them, enough hopefully to stop them from getting Dean’s scent. They land, with Sam and Dean stumbling over their feet as the ground meets their feet.</p><p>“I’m not gonna crap for a week!” Dean yelps as he climbs to his feet, stumbling.</p><p>Castiel helps Sam up and looks ahead to the journey that remains. More dirt and sand, this time they’ll have to walk. He scans the horizon as Sam and Dean sort themselves out and sees white smoke trailing up into the air. Something tells Castiel that they’re friendlies.</p><p>“We’ll head that way,” Castiel says, pointing.</p><p>Dean and Sam don’t get the chance to respond as he starts marching in that direction, tucking his wings away again as they walk.</p><p>***</p><p>An hour later and three of them reach the source of smoke. A small camp is circled around the campfire and sat outside their yurts are Alicia and Max Bane, the twins Sam had previously encountered. But the twins are not alone. A red headed young woman with long hair is sat beside the fire as well as an older man that Castiel has not seen for a long time. All are dressed in pretty standard wastes fare—heavy pants, boots, ponchos, goggles and masks at the ready.</p><p>“Castiel!” cries Bobby, standing up, scratching a hand through his beard for a brief second. “Heck, I didn’t expect to see you here.”</p><p>Everyone’s standing now, walking over to the three of them. Alicia and Max offer Sam and Castiel smiles, while the redhead waits at the back.</p><p>“Wait, you say ‘Bobby’?” Dean asks, taking a nervous step forward. “As in Bobby Singer?”</p><p>Bobby turns to Dean and gives him a scrutinizing look. “Yeah, who wants to know?”</p><p>“Bobby, it’s us, little Dean and Sam Winchester? We used to live down the hall from you, before… y’know?”</p><p>Bobby's eyes go wide and Castiel can’t help smiling as that reunion gets underway. He turns to Alicia, Max and the stranger.</p><p>“You’re different,” says the redhead. “But not quite like a psy… What are you?”</p><p>Alicia hides a chuckle and Max steps forward to do the introducing. “This here is Castiel, he’s from the rift. Castiel, Charlie. Charlie, Castiel.”</p><p>Charlie’s eyes go wide and she backs away. “But that means he’s a… a…”</p><p>“More powerful than most psys,” Bobby says, stepping in and clapping a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “And he ain’t no monster. Gotten me out of a tight spot or two out here over the decades.”</p><p>“While this reunion and all is nice,” Dean butts in, “we need to get moving.”</p><p>“That need to head off to do with the legion of monsters in the direction you’ve come from?” Alicia asks.</p><p>“It’s related,” Sam pipes up.</p><p>Castiel bites his bottom lip for a moment, as he tries to decide how much he should say. He decides that everyone deserves the full picture and he gestures towards the campfire. Dean grunts but follows everyone as they all get settled again. Water canteens appear and sensing no immediate danger, Castiel begins.</p><p>“I think Sam here can close the rift,” Castiel starts and sees Sam blushing out of the corner of his eye. “And that’s why we’re heading there. But-”</p><p>“Of course there’s a but,” Charlie groans.</p><p>Castiel nods. “But Azazel is also heading there. Dean thinks it might be due to some weapon Azazel has developed. And that it’s likely he’s going to launch some kind of assault on New Lawrence.”</p><p>“Who cares? Those assholes can come down to our level!” Max sneers.</p><p>Castiel quirks up an eyebrow. “And where will we ever get fresh supplies from again? But also, the people of New Lawrence are innocent… just misguided.”</p><p>There’s silence for a beat and then Sam says, “I think I know what the weapon must be. It’s some way of controlling the rift monsters. There was an attack in New Lawrence a few days past, which is unheard of. And all these monsters back there,” he jerks his head in the direction they’d come from, “must be Azazel's doing.”</p><p>“Is that possible?” Bobby asks Castiel.</p><p>“If they’d figured out some of what was being studied in the Dyson Research Center for Advanced Physics, and they had some powerful psys… anything is possible.” Castiel nods.</p><p>The seven of them stare gloomily into the campfire. Castiel had never done much digging around the Center once he’d made his way out. He’d returned once, but it had been crawling with monsters and he’d had little strength then to make a good study of what remained there.</p><p>“But, I think,” Castiel starts and then stands, “that if we close the rift, Azazel's device, machine or whatever will lose what it needs. It’ll certainly lose its supply of fresh monsters.”</p><p>Sam gets to his feet beside him and nods in agreement. “We might as well continue on our way.”</p><p>Dean nods and gets to his feet. “Yeah, time’s a’wastin’.”</p><p>Bobby stands too. “You’re idijits if you think I’m letting the two little Winchesters go up against some powerful psy without my backup.”</p><p>“You up for an adventure?” Max asks Alicia and the two of them hoist themselves up in unison.</p><p>“Fine!” Charlie stands up and dusts off her pants. “I am not leaving the lot of you to go and get killed. Plus, if Azazel does have access to the center, maybe he’s got their computers up and running again. I can do something about that.”</p><p>Max, Alicia, Bobby and Charlie begin to break camp.</p><p>Sam walks to the edge of the activities while Dean helps the others. Castiel walks over to Sam and Sam leans against him as Castiel snakes an arm around his waist.</p><p>“Not much further, huh?” Sam asks.</p><p>“Not if we fly some more.”</p><p>Sam looks into Castiel’s eyes, grinning and closes the distance between the two of them, pressing their lips together in a kiss that promises more. Once they’ve saved the world, of course.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam dry heaves, bent over and willing the bile to stay down. Straightening back up, he decides that if Cas is gonna continue flying him around every now and then that he’s going to need time to acclimate to the process. Beside Sam, Dean looks practically green.</p><p>Bobby looks fine and is checking the automatic rifle he has strung over his shoulder. Like he’s some old hat at the flying by angel thing. Though Charlie does look a little green around the gills.</p><p>“Woah!” yelps Max Banes as he and Alicia land with Cas.</p><p>With everyone outside the Dyson Research Center’s perimeter and twilight surrounding them, everything is starting to feel far more real. Sam reaches out with his senses and his psy abilities and picks up on their group and then heads towards the crumbling building beyond. How anything inside there is even functional, Sam has no idea. Awareness spreading out, Sam senses several monsters between them and the series of buildings that make up the center. Inside he can’t get a read.</p><p>“I can’t sense them,” Sam says to Cas as the angel wanders over. “It’s like, there’s some kind of shielding.”</p><p>Cas tilts his head to the side and closes his eyes. “Hmmmmmm,” Cas opens his eyes again, “you’re right.”</p><p>“What do you mean shielding?” Dean asks and then bends his head down again, hands on his thighs as he tries to steady his stomach.</p><p>“I don’t think it’s a psy,” Cas starts, “rather, the very fabric of the building has something that seems to block psy abilities. Almost as if it were some kind of anti-psy Faraday Cage.”</p><p>Sam frowns and squints in the direction of the building. There are no obvious power lines going into the building. As far as he knows there is no active power generation outside of places like New Lawrence. Though he wonders how the bunker has power. <em>But a nuclear reactor still active after all this time? There’s no solar on the roof or wind turbines</em>, Sam thinks.</p><p>“Maybe they’ve jury-rigged some kind of power supply,” Bobby suggests as he checks a shotgun at his side.</p><p>“We’re heading in there regardless,” Dean states.</p><p>“Yes, about that,” Cas begins and looks uneasily about the group before continuing. “There are 12 monsters between us and the best entry point to that place.” Cas points out. “Azazel's forces know we’re on our way. Though I’ve tried to deflect their probing as much as possible. However…”</p><p>“The shielding around the place should mean they haven’t been able to use any telepathy or anything to communicate with their friends on the outside.” Sam nods. “We can work with this.”</p><p>An ancient twig cracks in the darkening light and Sam tenses along with everyone else.</p><p>“The monsters are going to head for us the moment Dean steps forward,” Bobby points out.</p><p>“They’ll also be a pain in our ass the moment we try to leave.” Dean kicks at the dirt.</p><p>“We got this,” Alicia reassures, taking Max’s hand and walking closer to the distant shapes. She flicks her long curling hair over her shoulder and Sam can feel a gathering of energy heading towards the twins.</p><p>The rest of them watch as Alicia and Max stand 30 yards away, facing each other, hands interlocked with each other’s in front of them. Sensing that perhaps something is up, Sam can feel the monsters growing interested in the pair and starting to pad over.</p><p>A monster, some eight foot tall,with pale silvery skin and a mouthful of teeth reaches within ten foot of the twins. Then it tries to leap. Its body hits an invisible wall of energy and slowly but surely is turned into monster meat cubes as the force of its leap presses it through the holes in the invisible wall. Flesh slithers through, only to slop down on the other side, blood soaking the dirt.</p><p>As if enraged by the demise of the creature, the other monsters rush the twins. The monsters are all different, one almost as big as what Sam would have called an elephant—again something he’s only ever seen on screens and in books. The creatures are processed by the sharpened energy, like meat being turned into chum.</p><p>Entrails, broken bones, limbs, teeth, eyes, fur, blood—so much blood—quickly stretches out ahead of the twins until there’s nothing left to bite anyone’s heads off. The twins let go of each other’s hands and sway a little before turning back to Sam and the rest.</p><p>“Wow,” Dean mutters under his breath. “Did not know psys can do that.”</p><p>“The twins have always been very good at energy fields,” Cas comments, “and very inventive with them too.”</p><p>“That’s one way of putting it,” Sam says as he reaches out again to make sure nothing has come to see what’s happened to their deceased and bloody company.</p><p>Sensing nothing else, the seven of them check their weapons over and start for the most promising looking entrance. The ground underfoot is uneven and strewn with jagged asphalt and roots. Here and there are mounds of dirt and sand that have built up over the years, blown in by the winds.</p><p>It is eerily quiet. No obvious sounds are coming from the structure ahead and there are no obvious signs of life. Sam can feel a sense of dread inside him building.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>You’re fine</em>, Cas sends out to him. There’s a wave of reassurance with the mental contact and Sam finds his nerves steadying.</p><p>Reaching the shell of the center, Sam looks up at the hulk before him, eyes sweeping this way and that. The structure this close looks about ready to fall down with a good breeze. Though he’s pretty sure that collapsing the structure will do nothing to deal with the rift.</p><p>“This way,” Cas calls and they follow him through a set of large double glass doors that are fractured, but not shattered.</p><p>The doors ease open at a slight push, as if recently greased. Darkness threatens to blind them on the inside, but then candles—fat, tall, short or stumpy—begin jumping alight down the hallways that surround them. Flames flickering, the light stretches on in either of the two directions they’re offered.</p><p>“They have a pyro,” Charlie warns.</p><p>There’s no sign of anyone or anything else, bar the self-igniting candles. Sam can guess what a pyro-psy can do and he hopes they just stick to using their powers to the candles in the hallways. A few of the incidents that had led to the less than favorable attitude towards psys in New Lawrence had been due to pyro fires. Not that such occurrences were frequent.</p><p><em>It’s gonna get toasty</em>, Sam thinks glumly to himself as they look around.</p><p>“Let’s split up,” Dean suggests. All eyes turn on him and he holds his hands up. “Okay, okay. Let’s stick together.”</p><p>With that decided, they start down one hallway on their left, but quickly find the way blocked with rubble. The hairs go up on the back of Sam’s neck as they turn to head towards where they started. But there’s nothing in their way, no sign of trouble psy or otherwise.</p><p>Sam can practically hear everyone’s muscles tense up as they walk. The air is edged with anticipation, proceeding down the unblocked hallway only makes Sam more anxious. Each step makes sweat bead his back and his layers start to stick. It’s not warm, in fact it’s colder the deeper they get into the research center. The walls that may have once been painted in slick institutional white are graying and shining with building ice—the walls glitter in the candle light.</p><p>Sam’s teeth start to chatter. “Really… powerful… pyro…” Sam suggests.</p><p>“Removing heat… that’s a new… one,” Bobby agrees.</p><p>Sam can sense the grim agreement among them all as they walk deeper into the center. The hallways bend and sprawl, double doors and single doors lean open, rubble behind their rotting shells. Sam can’t tell how much of the building is really standing or if the damage has been done to lead them down a corridor. The double doors that would have filled the hallway at points decades ago, are gone.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>This feels like a trap</em>, Sam sends to Cas.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>It is. So be ready</em>.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>Thanks for the reassurance</em>.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>If you want reassuring, don’t ask stupid questions</em>, Cas shoots back.</p><p>Sam stops and looks to Cas, giving him a “seriously?” look. Cas quietly chuckles and motions for them to keep up with the others. Bobby is at the front of the pack now, with Alicia, Max and Charlie behind him, followed by Dean. Everyone is shivering, breath rising up in front of them, shadows dancing with the candle light.</p><p>Distantly, Sam hears something that sounds suspiciously like claws on cracked tiles. A crunching, screech that makes Sam’s teeth vibrate in its jaw. He doesn’t wait for anyone else to react, he pushes past Dean, sending him towards Cas for protection and heads up level with Bobby.</p><p>“There’s something... around that corner,” Sam whispers between shivering breaths.</p><p>Another crunch.</p><p>Bobby checks his shotgun and raises it. “I think it’s time... we find out what... you can do, boy.”</p><p>A monster, body long and slender, crawling along on four angular legs, skin golden yellow scales with acid green spines as a mane behind its many-toothed head, crawls out from around the corner. Its tail swishes out behind it, bony razors scraping and catching on the walls, taking paint and plaster with it.</p><p>Its beady red eyes land on Sam and it snarls, then its eyes focus beyond Sam. <em>Dammit, Dean</em>, Sam thinks.</p><p>The spiny fiend rushes them, getting ready to ram right through where they stand. Bobby gets a shot off before the thing leaps into the air, mouth wide. Sam throws his right hand out, pressure building in his skull, and the monster slams into a filled in doorway, smashing ancient wood and cracking into the rubble beyond. The monster cries a head splitting howl, one leg broken and murder in its beady eyes.</p><p>Holding his hand out in front of him, Sam slowly clenches his fist, attention focused on the fiend and its cries turn into a wet gurgle, limbs clenching in towards its bulk, bones snapping as it collapses in on itself. Sam lets go of the thing and its meat slops to the floor. A tiny trickle of blood runs out of Sam’s nose and he wipes it away with the back of his hand.</p><p>“Well, you... handled that,” Bobby says with a nervous smile, teeth clattering edge and lowers his shotgun.</p><p>“Sam?” Dean asks, coming up to him the same time Cas does. Both put a hand on either of Sam’s shoulders as he wipes another drop of blood away.</p><p>“I’m fine... Let’s keep going.” Sam shrugs them off and leads the group around the corner and into a new section of hallway.</p><p>Ahead is a pair of double doors, safety glass portholes cracked, a few flecks of red paint left. A wave of glee washes over Sam and he pushes it aside. It’s Azazel's glee, he can practically taste it.</p><p>The seven of them slowly walk towards the doors and stop. The frigid air and ice shining walls slowly ease away until something approaching a normal ambient temperature surrounds them. Sam can feel Azazel on the other side of the door—all malevolent intent multiplied by each of his followers waiting to annihilate all of them and dance on their corpses.</p><p>But Sam can also sense the energy of the rift as it licks at his senses. He can almost smell it through the door, like lightning dancing through the air as it earths itself. Over and over again. He feels it running through him, like a part of himself is being called by the energy that flexes on the other side as it makes mincemeat of his reality.</p><p>Behind him, he can tell Charlie, Bobby, Max and Alicia are similarly affected. Cas is the most enchanted by the rift, he seems like he might vibrate out of his skin and into another reality. Sam reaches out a hand to Cas and squeezes his shoulder.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>We can do this</em>, Sam reassures.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>Yes</em>, Cas agrees. “Myself and the others will focus on Azazel. Sam… you must focus on the rift,” Cas says out loud.</p><p>“Wait, but-” Sam starts.</p><p>“We don’t know how long we have until Azazel completes what he set out to do. It may have even started. All I know is that you need to close the rift before anything else can come through it.” Cas nods to himself. “Close the rift. We will take care of the rest. Dean, stay with Sam.”</p><p>Cas gives Sam no warning as he waves the doors open and rushes in, silver blade in his right hand and handgun in his left.</p><p>“NOW!” Charlie screams, leading the rest of their small band of psys into the chamber beyond the doors. The chamber beyond is vast, with blast walls knocked down into what must have once been the original experimental chamber. The doors slam shut before Sam can see much more.</p><p>Sam looks to Dean.</p><p>“Come on, Sammy. We’ve got a world to save.” Dean winks, his bravado a mask for his fear. Sam doesn’t call him out of it, knowing he’d have to admit to his own if he did.</p><p>“You watch my back,” Sam orders and Dean nods.</p><p>Willing himself to regain a touch of calm, Sam looks to the peeling doors and then pushes them open with a thought. Sam and Dean stroll inside as Azazel and a dozen minions face down Cas and the others, but the rift is in the center of the vast space and unguarded. So they make a break for it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Castiel, long time, no see,” Azazel smirks. “I see you’ve finally made some friends. Good for you.”</p>
<p>The rift is to the right of Azazel's motley group, sickly golden lightning that weaves in the air, stuck in one spot.</p>
<p>“I see you’ve not changed, Azazel. Still hellbent on,” Castiel waves a hand at their decrepit surroundings from a lost age, “whatever this is.”</p>
<p>Azazel's smirk turns into a cruel and sneer and his stance shifts, like he’s readying to pounce. “Come, Castiel, see the bigger picture here.”</p>
<p>“What bigger picture?” Castiel’s eyes flit about their location, trying to keep an eye on his foes and allies, but also looking for whatever new weapon the New Lawrence authorities think Azazel has. Whatever that might be. “Destroying everything is not a bigger picture.”</p>
<p>“That’s where you’re wrong,” Azazel stretches his neck and cracks it, the sound audible over the low hum of the rift, “because why have nothing, when you can have absolutely everything. Everyday coming up smelling like roses, with a spoon in your mouth and a place to call home.” Azazel throws his arms up. “I’m surprised you didn’t think of something like this sooner.”</p>
<p>Azazel stops speaking and drops his arms down, signaling his people to rush Castiel and his band of misfits. Castiel drops a young man unconscious with just the brush of fingers against the guy’s temples and then Castiel looks around to see if he can see anything that could be a threat beyond Azazel’s band of psys. His attention not quite on the fight, Castiel grunts when a lick of flame lances his right shoulder.</p>
<p>His body already healing, Castiel checks Azazel to see him occupied by the Bane twins and then turns to his assailant. A young woman, no more than 20 years old, stands in front of him, fire flickering at her hands. She grins and then shifts the flames to ice crystals that hover near her palms.</p>
<p>There’s no banter, no real warning, other than the imperceptible twitch of muscle under clothes as the psy scoops her hand forward and sends shards of ice towards Castiel. He ducks much of the icy spears, but one slits through his middle, the pain sending him to his knees. Trailing a hand down towards his stomach, Castiel feels the jagged edges of a hole, about the diameter of three of his fingers. The sharp pain in his back tells him the ice went all the way through and only just missed his spine.</p>
<p>He looks up at the pyro, probably their illumination provider from earlier, and grits his teeth. The unsettling crisscross patter of flesh knitting back together is as irksome as it is painful. The pyro starts walking towards him, a fresh blade of ice gathering at her right hand and then her eyes go wide. Blood pools in large damp circles on the front of her ragged top and then she falls to the floor, dead.</p>
<p>Standing where the pyro once stood, Charlie wobbles on her feet, her left hand covered in crimson stickiness and strips of meat. Castiel nods and slowly eases to his feet, his attention looking and feeling beyond himself as he tries to identify what the weapon could possibly be. His eyes fall back towards the rift and he sees Azazel with a hand around Sam’s throat. Sam’s face is growing blue, eyes rolling up into the back of his head. Dean is unconscious on the floor beside the rift.</p>
<p>A thought and a flap of his wings, Castiel lands beside Azazel and Sam, hands reaching towards Azazel's to claw his grip away from Sam. Azazel won’t let up and Castiel reaches for his own silver needle-shaped blade and plunges it into Azazel's back. The psy’s grip loosens and Sam falls away, slumping to the floor.</p>
<p>There’s still no sign of the weapon, but Castiel doesn’t care as he kneels beside Sam and checks that he’s still breathing. A huff of breath dances over Castiel’s cheek and he turns to look into Sam’s eyes. But rather than their usual warmth and wonder, there’s cool disassociation and murder. Castiel is thrown back as if he’s been hit by an invisible sledgehammer. Sliding along the floor he catches a look at Azazel, laughing on his side as he bleeds out from where Castiel stabbed him.</p>
<p>Sam bends unnaturally back to his feet and looks towards the rift. Castiel scrambles to his own feet and before he can get within six feet of Sam, he’s thrown back again. Fighting to get his thoughts in order, Castiel struggles to up, but now it feels as if a ton of bricks are sitting on top of him.</p>
<p>A wet laugh draws Castiel’s eyes back towards Azazel, who is still, somehow, alive.</p>
<p>“Give it up, <em>an-gel</em>,” Azazel says with a sneer and spits out a glob of blood.</p>
<p>Castiel looks from Azazel to Sam and the rift, and back again. “What have you done to Sam?”</p>
<p>“Just given him the push he needed. You should have trained your boy better, Castiel.” Azazel grins, teeth covered in blood.</p>
<p><em>Of course, </em>Castiel grimaces, remembering how good Azazel is at getting inside people’s heads. Castiel tries to move, but Sam has him almost pinned in place. He takes a slow step forward, pushing against the telekinetic pressure Sam is pressing down on him.</p>
<p>“Give it up… Castiel… he’s mine now. What New Lawrence… felt before… from someone with… not even half… his power… nothing… will compare,” Azazel laughs between coughs. “And he’ll… probably survive… as well.”</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>Sam, can you hear me?</em> Castiel sends to him. <em>Sam, you don’t have to do this. Stop. Please. We need to close the rift.</em></p>
<p>There’s no response from Sam, but the pressure on Castiel doesn’t get any worse. Pushing forward, dimly aware of the battle against the other psys that’s still raging, Castiel is very certain of the math here. That Sam is the weapon and he just so happened to deliver him right into Azazel's lap. What Castiel knew of the rift’s potential, he realizes he was a fool not to think about how Sam could do the opposite of what Castiel had intended.</p>
<p>Sam is equally a conduit for the rift’s power as well as someone who can close it for good. Castiel needs to stop him, but as he is on this plane, he can’t move beyond the constraints of this reality.</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>CLOSE YOUR EYES! </em>Castiel sends to Bobby, Max, Alicia and Charlie, jamming his command into their minds.</p>
<p>Distantly, he’s aware of his friends following his order. Then Castiel sheds his body, particle by particle giving way until he towers inside the chamber the rift occupies, the pressure of Sam holding him gone. Stretching his wings out, all six, Castiel struggles to stop himself from spinning apart, it’s so long since he allowed his being to exist as more than this reality normally allows for. He takes one step towards Sam, feeling the rift’s own energies multiplying as Sam works at it, powers entwining with the rift’s.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Beyond this reality, Castiel can hear and smell the creatures from the between that are eager to come spilling forth.</p>
<p><em>No time</em>, Castiel thinks and gives Dean a quick nudge away with a thought, sending him to safety away from the rift. Looming behind Sam, every piece of him impossible, Castiel reaches out two of his hands and pulls Sam away from the rift. Sam’s attention snaps from the rift to Castiel instantly, but his power swats at Castiel, almost equal to Castiel’s true size.</p>
<p>Sam’s eyes don’t burn as he looks upon Castiel, such is the strength within him, but that means little unless Castiel can get through to him. Castiel reaches a third hand out and gently cradles the side of Sam’s head as Sam’s psychic energy slams against Castiel, again and again.</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>Stop this</em>, Castiel orders, as his hand engulfs Sam’s skull and he pushes all of his memories of Sam at him. From finding him in the wastes to Castiel’s relief at seeing Sam as someone who can stop the rift once and for all. He saves until last the memory of warmth and love Castiel feels each time he’s allowed even a second in Sam’s presence.</p>
<p>Castiel ends the memory dump on their first kiss.</p>
<p>Sam’s eyes close and his face goes lax. Castiel keeps Sam held aloft and waits, though he can hear new fiends coming closer. Seconds tick by until finally, Sam opens his hazel eyes, recognition and surprise in them.</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>You can put me down</em>, Sam suggests.</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>Are you going to close the rift this time? More monsters are on their way</em>, Castiel says, deadpan as ever.</p>
<p>&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt; <em>Sure, and then we’re going to talk about how many faces you have, </em>Sam shoots back.</p>
<p>Castiel does the closest he can to chuckling in his trueform and sets Sam back down on his feet. He watches as Sam turns back to the rift and reaches out to it. Hands hovering over the torn pieces of reality, Sam begins to focus.</p>
<p>Slowly, Castiel uses his many eyes to check on the scene. Azazel is somehow still alive, eyes burned out to a crisp. All of his followers lay dead on the ground of the chamber, while Bobby and the rest hunker down together, eyes closed shut.</p>
<p>Dean begins to stir, but Castiel sends a brief thought to him and he slumps asleep. Sam would never forgive him if he accidentally burned Dean’s eyes out. Or drove him mad—Castiel didn’t need to be psychic to know that.</p>
<p>Gaze shifting back to Sam, Castiel is about to say something, when he feels a tug somewhere in what might be his middle. The rift snaps shut and then Castiel’s world goes black and he can’t sense or think.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Here, eat something,” Dean orders, shoving a bowl of oatmeal at Sam. There’s honey on the unit beside Sam and a fresh cup of black coffee.</p>
<p>It’s the third time today that Dean’s tried to tempt Sam with food. He looks up at his brother and then to the offered bowl. He sniffs the food and his stomach gives a hungry rumble. Pain starting to curl at him, Sam takes the bowl from Dean and a spoon, which he dips in the honey and drags out a glob of the sticky amber stuff before pushing it into the oatmeal. He stirs the honey through, every move watched by Dean.</p>
<p>Sat beside Castiel’s bed, Sam doesn’t think on the fact that he’s only left his vigil over the past two days to use the bathroom. Elsewhere in the bunker, Charlie, Bobby, Max and Alicia are working on some way to get the New Lawrence authorities to relax on their attitude towards psys—sending them Azazel and the last of his crew had helped on that. And Charlie had earlier excitedly screamed there was some kind of green plant (grass) growing outside the bunker.</p>
<p>Cas had been right. Closing the rift was what the world needed. But now he was here, lying in a bed, pale and looking so much smaller than he had before all this started. Sam worries that his suspicions of what closing the rift might do to Cas are proving to be a little too real.</p>
<p>It had been something to see a giant being of light and energy, with four faces, six arms and six wings collapse in on itself and become a man again. Not that Sam would ever be able to think of Cas as just some man—he was so much more.</p>
<p>Sam lifts a spoonful of oatmeal to his mouth, blows on it and then sucks the sticky sweet oats off the spoon and into his mouth. Dean makes a pleased sound, a deep “humpf” and then wanders off to leave Sam alone with Cas.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Outside the bunker, life crawls out of the hibernation of entropy that the rift had set everything into. Bobby sees a lone deer on the third morning.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>It’s evening on the third day since Sam almost destroyed everything, and Sam is reading beside Castiel’s bed. Or at least he’s meant to be, but he has to keep re-reading the same paragraph over and over again, unable to find any real focus. Setting the book down, Sam studies Cas in his bed. He’s less pale, hair messy and going in as many directions as it pleases. Sam hopes that the worst of whatever this is, is behind them and that any moment now, Castiel’s eyes will open and he’ll see Sam. Remember what he showed Sam in those desperate moments not so long ago.</p>
<p>Settling back in the chair beside the bed, Sam lets his eyes fall to a corner of the sparse room. Sam can’t easily think on what Azazel did to him. Invading his mind and twisting everything around until up was down and down was up. He’d felt pulled along like a puppet, latching onto the power the rift was eager for him to take and Azazel was ready to abuse through Shim.</p>
<p>Pushing those thoughts away, Sam glances back to Cas and does a double take.</p>
<p>“You’re awake,” Sam says, voice croaking from disuse.</p>
<p>“Hello, Sam,” Cas smiles sleepily. “I didn’t realize my bed is so comfortable before.”</p>
<p>Sam has no idea what he should do, but Dean chooses this moment to be walking past the open bedroom door and hears them talking.</p>
<p>“Cas, you’re awake!” Dean cries, stepping into the bedroom voice carrying far enough that Sam can hear rushing footsteps coming down the hallway outside.</p>
<p>It’s not too long before Sam’s ushered out so that Dean, Bobby and Charlie can check Cas over, make sure he’s doing okay. Sam’s shepherded into the kitchen and before he knows what’s happening, Max and Alicia have a bowl of chili in front of Sam, the ingredients clearly gained from a trip into New Lawrence.</p>
<p>Sam does what he’s told and eats.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“Sam?” Cas calls.</p>
<p>Sam doesn’t think he is being so obvious, lurking in the doorway, but the second he feels a brush of Castiel’s mind against his own, Cas knows he’s there.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Sam says, stepping into the room proper, bathed in lamplight.</p>
<p>Cas gives Sam a small tired smile and slowly taps the empty mattress beside him. Sam kicks off his boots and climbs onto the bed, settling down on top of the sheets and blankets. He turns in towards Cas, his heart thumping suddenly so loudly—he wonders if Cas can hear it. Cas eases himself over to face Sam and Sam has no idea what he’s done to deserve the look he’s being given.</p>
<p>“You saved the world, Sam,” Cas sighs and then yawns.</p>
<p>“I almost destroyed it,” Sam says in a harsh whisper, unsure if he can trust his own voice.</p>
<p>“But you didn’t. You listened to me. And you closed the rift.” Cas reaches out a hand from under the covers and tenderly strokes a hand down Sam’s cheek. “You saved the world.”</p>
<p>“Cas, I-” but Sam doesn’t get to finish that thought as Cas easily pulls Sam in for a kiss. The contact is light and a little hesitant, but Sam goes with it and returns the press of lips.</p>
<p>The door to Castiel’s bedroom closes of its own accord, and Sam allows Cas to pull him in closer. For a being that is healing from no one knows what, Cas is very persistent as he licks his way into Sam’s mouth. Opening to him, Sam’s body tingles and warms with need as they press closer together. Cas tastes like the air before a storm, heady and powerful.</p>
<p>Pulling back, Cas looks at Sam through lowered lashes and grins. “Is this okay?”</p>
<p>“More than okay,” Sam replies. To back up his conviction, he pulls off the cargo pants and t-shirt he’s wearing, stripping down to his underwear. With fewer layers on, he crawls under the covers and Cas pulls him up against his chest, skin on skin. Cas is a furnace against him, but he’s not sweating, and Sam slides down a little so he can nuzzle at Castiel’s jaw and neck. Tongue tasting musk and something he can’t quite place,he peppers Castiel’s skin with kisses.</p>
<p>Growing hard with each second of contact, Sam presses himself up against Cas and finds him similarly affected. Cock straining against his boxers, Sam shoves a hand between them so he can pull the waistband down. The press of his arm between them bumps Cas, drawing a desperate hiss from him. Sam draws his boxers down, pre-come smearing along his wrist.</p>
<p>“I don’t know what.. I…” Cas starts and then pauses. “I don’t know…”</p>
<p>“You want me to touch you?” Sam asks, pulling his hand level with Castiel’s hard cock and squeezing it through the soft fabric of his boxers.</p>
<p>“Yesssss,” Cas begs.</p>
<p>“Perfect,” Sam purrs, pulling Castiel’s underwear down with his help. Sam strokes long fingers gently down Castiel’s length, making him shiver and buck towards Sam. Neither of them is going to last long.</p>
<p>Adjusting where he’s settled on the bed some more, switching sides in a huff, letting his cock drag over Castiel’s middle as he does, Sam settles on the bed. He puts his left arm under Castiel’s head and draws him close, resting his right leg over Castiel’s hips. Spitting on his right hand, Sam reaches down under the covers between them and grabs both of their hard leaking cocks. Spit slick, skin on skin, Sam drags his hand up and down, mouth kissing away Castiel’s desperate cries.</p>
<p>There’s a moment where Sam can’t quite believe that this being from another plane of existence, who’s vast and powerful in ways that Sam can only just start to comprehend, is turning into putty in his hands. And then a blue glow begins to suffuse the room and shadows shaped like immense wings climb up the walls.</p>
<p>Sam twists his hand just so, kissing Castiel’s face, just under his blue glowing eyes. Castiel’s panting in in a language Sam doesn’t recognize, words spilling between kisses. Bringing their mouths together again, Sam teases Cas open, licking and tasting as his hand goes faster.</p>
<p>Cas shakes one last time, moaning into Sam’s mouth, and then goes tense as he lets go between them. Come coating Sam’s hand and both of their bellies. The sudden extra slickness does it for Sam and sends him over the edge as well—he climaxes with a cry and then kisses Cas stupid as he shudders through the aftershock, cock quickly becoming sensitive.</p>
<p>Catching their breath, Sam slowly untangles from Cas and reaches down to the floor for something to clean them both up with. Slowly he wipes them down carefully, tenderly showing his affection. Cleaned and a little sweaty, Sam lets Cas draw him into being the little spoon and the two of them fall asleep.</p>
<p>Sam dreams of a world coming back to life and sharing it with Cas.</p>
<p>They don’t have long to wait.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for reading. Kudos and comments appreciated.</p><p>Don't forget to check out <a href="https://anyreiart.tumblr.com/post/616893546405953536/art-masterpost-spn-dystopia-2020-my-art-for">Anyrei's art masterpost here</a>.</p><p>If you enjoyed this story, I suggest checking out the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SPNDystopiaBang">SPN Dystopia Bang Collection</a>, we have new stories posting through May 2020.</p><p>You can find me on Pillowfort at <a href="https://www.pillowfort.social/dreamsfromthebunker">dreamsfromthebunker</a>, Dreamwidth at <a href="https://hit-the-books.dreamwidth.org/">hit_the_books</a>, Tumblr at <a href="https://hitthebooksposts.tumblr.com/">hitthebooksposts</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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